The best way? Turn them into an audience.

When life feels like a movie — for that to happen, a friend says, nature has to feel like a ‘powerful backdrop’.

Or more, I think. Do you remember that time when

the summer heat was also the heat inside you?

The rain rained inside you,

The full moon was you, and you didn’t know why.

(So strong. Then. Life like a movie.)

(Old photographs, black and white.)

(Elemental, when love was elemental.)

The transcendental ones, they silence the demons

and the angels and us.

Turn us into watchers

when lightning flashes, when it thunders

or when (you see him when you didn’t expect to. Shook.)

or when (she walks towards you.)

(electricity) (strong winds) (madness, to be silenced thus)

or when (the hair falls across her face. So soft, in this harsh reality. Strangely dislocated, a flame above the wax.)

or when (she pauses. Re-imagines solitude. Owns it, the hazy outline of her silhouette in the dark)

or when (he smiles. His teeth show. They don’t show every time.)

or when (he’s angry, he plays the revenge song, but it’s full-circle. It’s right because it suits him. Not everyone looks good with it.)

or when — (??… you have to do what suits you.)

The others, they watch, hope to recreate the transcendental.

Artwork By: Natasha Malik