.. on her back flat and still between the cool sheets staring up at the ceiling fan and the ceiling painted grass green ...... thoughts spinning round & round and it was like spinning round & round the way she used to do when she was young, upon her back, staring up through the trees to the clouds. she could not focus or stop. stop & hold onto a thought for very long. she watched things blur past while now and then a blinding bright light flickered like the sun thru the leaves. she saw the river as luminous ribbons weaving amongst the tall golden grass and a face stoically masked with intense laughing dark eyes and he was asking her how much she was willing to risk.
patterns of moonlight on blue snow
a doe with 3 fawn wading across a creek bed, her mother's legs starkly tan, crossed beneath an orange sun-dress, the full-length sensation of prickly grass underneath her as she lay imagining a tender miniature world there in the roots & earth .... all of it floating by random & transparent. the smell of her baby pristine skin and the peach-fuzz feel of his hair against her lips, smells of tabu blended with cigarettes and pine. these dangling stirrings would not hold still and be counted
the textured fabric on the palm of her hand from the sofa as she lay there letting him taste her ,,,, and a surprising
bolt of thunder and lightening as it played outside the window, allowing his voice back in to infiltrate her bones & fear, fleeting gusts of electric sexuality. his weight upon her hand
slipped underneath his thigh in his car..... the sudden blade of pain, sharp & resolute making it's home nestled in the bones & sinews of her soul.
the kiss, the taste of him a swirl of honey & heat, his hands.
vivid and distinct - each memory encased in gossamer yet rendered in wire and bound up with a fragile reflection that resembled the configuration & rhythm of heart