• Twist and twine, curve and curl like arms dancing to a song that lived in ones head. Little dots, circle if you may, dripping clinging to the edge of the thinning line. it breaks, slips falls and crashes to the surface of the water below, denting before peeling the particles and sliding unnoticed into the blue coolness.

    The square launches then idles, resting, turning ever so slow, from the cusp of it's womb. Points and edges yet seems so soft to touch. Don’t dare. They slice like lies. She motioned to follow, the come-hither beckon making waves in the ions as they passed

    Whisper fades, but the taste lingers. Can you see it? a breath, a gasp, a moment wasted. Like a ghost of a thought, the residue of an idea, ideal, a life. Don’t.. if you look it will be gone. And I can't handle the empty spot, the outline of the feel of it.