the danger in

Amy stroked her print out of the anonymous love letters and wondered. These letters were invasions from an unsigned stranger, someone Anna had never spoken of. Anna never sought Amy out for a midnight cup of hot chocolate, a giggling session on one of their beds, feet hanging over the sides, shoulders sprawled and merged with the soft blankets and flannel pillow cases.

Somehow, Amy knew that Anna had never printed out the letters. That she would have left the words to linger in an electronic no man's land of light and memory.

Hana chan. I cannot wait to press my little flower. The letters went. Amy knew them know by heart.

I want you to come into me.
Join my world
Let our bodies touch, merge.
show the electrons of our atoms
how to share orbits.

It went on like this. Lines of possession, of desire. Of needing to consume her sister's body whole--leaving nothing intact.

knowing / lost words / drown / in sounds that cannot / merge into meaning / the danger in / words of / melted water

the word is / the sound / of water / dripping from/ ancient symbols / tiny particles / of merging / realities

Follow us all: Amy/Anna, Sophie/Yuki, Kit/Richard, minor characters or sift through water leavings and river journeys.