Lake

Sun entering a white room with curtains dancing in the wind off the lake. It was a clear day and the water glinted like heaven. We skimmed the surface in our catamaran leaving clouds of salt-spray hanging in our wake. The world is big enough to never be in the same place twice. Your head is fast enough to never think the same thought twice. There was no you, as your body tensed against the ropes, bracing the forces of the catamaran, pulling it across the wind, getting cooler now as the day wound downwards, you wrapped in shade and droplets and your eyes squinting reflexively against the glare of bright souls leaving the lake surface to skip into the horizon laughing. Body weary later, your kitchen bench is clean and leather lounge cool and soft to touch as sleep washes against your ankles like tide and your lights dim automatically, leaving passing headlights to flick across your eyelids heavy and emptied of life on one more Sunday afternoon emptied too of friends and echoes, through your lakeside apartment, emptied finally of everything.