Rohan has finally turned to see what it is he has been running from. He had already sensed her long ago. But his senses were taken away on the wind and he became bone washed and broken. Now he has turned and found her on the other side of the tree, that he has been waiting under for so long. Had she always been behind the tree for as long as he had been there?
If only he had looked for her sooner. If only she had approached him before the rain shadow side, then she might have survived in the moisture. Only now he has found her. He has found her because she has fallen. She lies naked and cold in a river of coiled hair. Her eyes are dark and voiceless as death. MY LOVE IS COLD, was the last thing he heard of her before she fell. And the blood of her being trembled up and swam through the eyes of Rohan. He fell into himself because there was nothing left to hold onto. He was immediately spat back out, exposed and empty.
She lay resting within his grasp, soaking in her thick blood. Drowning in her own juices of love. She has died. Rohan touches the sky with his mind. There will be a storm. Then he loses touch and the wind roars through him. He is as empty as being and will never give her life. She has come close to him finding him beneath the tree - in the last leaves she has waited - then falling - then the tree falling - then the sky falling - then nothing.
She has looked beyond the edge of the world and into the nothingness of him. He has never really had the strength to find her nor to escape and live without her. The desert has sucked him dry. He is the sky. He has let her die in her own blood. Amongst her cold love and hair. Deep within himself, wrapped in his own arms, he brushes the darkness of his dead eyes with her lashes.
She was the only thing that gave him true life in this place. There was no self within him to last beyond the point of her knowing. Rohan hugged her to his empty chest and loved her as he began to fade. There was really no life in this place. Only the great illusion of the mind and wind. The one-tree had been split by the storm. The blue sky shone down and the sands of the desert washed over them. By mid morning they were gone.
