Air – bruising at the speed of sound.
Friction from the 7 billion names spoken everyday
hums in the cloudless sky; does anyone hear it?
Feel air drift past your cheekbones.
Taste salt, the unmistakable suggestion
of a stranger’s breath.
Bat’s wings rile the ancient scent of caves.
Fluttering eyelashes raise a tempest.
When my eyes turn to glass, I listen for the light.
Senses
03 Sunday Nov 2013
Posted poems
in
Mysterious.
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my thoughts, exactly…i had to read it a few times…definitely left an impact, but mysterious, indeed.
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