With glitter on her cheeks and a smile on her face she tells me she’s going to bleed tonight. The colors are calling her and she’s stripping off and heading out.
Pretty girl; head full of dreams and smart drugs and the Kabbala and fifth dimensional physics.
Don’t go, I tell her. Stay here with me and enjoy the suit you’re wearing. The colors will always be there, and she’s younger than most who choose to listen to the call, split their fleshsuits and emerge from the cocoon and into the up and out.
Sailing off into the direction that can’t be pointed to.
She tells me how bright the colors are, and how they dance and what they whisper to her and she holds my hand and I think of that soft skin dissolving into colors and bleeding out of space-time.
I can go with her. Strip loose my skin like millions have done over the ten years since the true nature of the world and the colors opened up to us.
She strokes my cheek with something like love and rests her hand against my chest and whispers about what a tired old world this is. How it was only ever here for us to grow in and now we can leave when we want and go out there; into the colors.
Her hand slips out of mine and she smiles. She can’t wait. She can feel the call, see the colors closing around her.
A final kiss. She smiles and stands and she’s looking past me at angles I can’t see and then she’s cracking.
Time blurs and runs like wax, and she’s stripping. Cracks appearing in her fleshsuit and the colors bleeding out.
Her colors washing out over me and bleeding away into hyperspace. Beautiful colors with no names, only emotion.
I could have gone with her, but I never wanted the colors. I’m greedy and scared and I don’t want to leave the cradle just yet.
I only ever wanted to hold her hand.