outside the car, the middle of spring, misty

i wander in the night’s indifference

through two birdsongs and three meat vendors

i didn’t know at night they call

the birds to the men

the men back to the birds

whose plumage is inky like the air that slinks

across my bare skin, not wet but still slick,

the fluid of the night.

i press it against my wrists,

the air. i lift it to my brow and breathe.

thoughts are there in ferment

i can pick one up and examine it.

a warmth in my palm, it collides

with the night and flees.

it spills away, into a haze away

above my head and drifting

slipping farther than my hands,

curled and furled in the tinkling breeze,

can reach.

Author's Note

a rough piece, newly created. how is it working so far? any of the lines stick in the craw, does the imagery work, is the impact in the right places?

Reviews

[Emily B]

looking forward to reading more from you

[Cosmic kid]

This is beautiful I love the imagery :)