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.
03 Sunday Nov 2013
Winding Stream Press said:
my thoughts, exactly…i had to read it a few times…definitely left an impact, but mysterious, indeed.