1.7.28
One foot lifted with a “well, I should go.”
Silhouettes | Saudade
Fixed atop a streetlamp, I watched wires fall from our satellite to earth and back, silver-blue silhouettes against the black light of the night sky. Perched and nesting, I twisted about the velveteen threads of my memories of desire. Gravity, an old sea captain, settling down on the shore, looks out for the sailors he
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1.7.27
Four feet pressed down where plush topography lines bent, sending avalanches through the piling.
1.7.26
Beige shag folded into foothills, geography rubbed to and fro, eroding, shifting under socks and shoes exchanging dirty electric charges in an eased caress.
1.7.25
The forced air kicked on, little bits of dust aflutter in the webs around the return vent, and they stared and kissed, and stopped and stared past the opaque smile on the other’s lips.