SPIRITUALLY TRAVERSING

Sun-rays interspersing.

DETRIMENTAL CLAW

Smeared and rolled over, thoroughly obliterated and torn.

SOUL SORROW

Soul sorrow brandishes her, dispossesses and stuns her.

INSANITY IS RELATIVE

Who’s to blame? The preverbal switch-a-roo, so to say. I like to think that it’s others, but it’s usually me.

BURNT AIR

Burnt air tastes of ash and smoke. Specks of lined paper rise up on a sweeping current into the sky.

A MILLION THOUGHTS

I have a million thoughts meandering through my brain, but none of them crave the microphone. None of them rise to the forefront.

THE UNIVERSAL SPIRIT OF “WE”

Shade sweeps across my toes and hair as my hips sway. I talk low, threading words into sentences, traversing the wireless to another. Her voice, small and intelligent, vast in her breath of language, is articulate and a joy.

WHEREVER, WHENEVER

She is round and fluid in a long floral skirt and a salmon-colored short-sleeve shirt. She drinks coffee, and her gaze flits over the room. Her lips are thin but sweet, smiling when anyone speaks.