The world, in cinematic play
thinks it knows me. Noting the answer to my riddles will never be made so
obvious, as I float in hypnotic state, pulse capturing me, forcing breath to
dangle on the edge, sky almost transparent, as my body moves seamlessly into it’s
own country. Sweat staining my sleeve with very private thought in an
underestimated sort of comfort, a very silent posture of repose.
Steadying myself, deeply
breathing, knowing all too well, the deer thinks he knows me, yet knows nothing
of the nudity of my thought. Shrouded in seaweed and lace, I hide my
denouement. A Splattering of cold is chilling my flesh in a hedonistic
affair down to my bones, liberated from the cold, drunk on adrenaline......sneakers now covered, in paradox and dirt!
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