Sunday, April 17, 2011
Day342 - time,
Scent on the air lifted, lilted, washed away, sounds drowned in ink surrounds, as breath drawn warm was held, the stars exploded.
He took a handful and threw them into the air to fall where they may. All matter passing through this starfield did pull them hither, tracking, dispersing, leaving traces in other spheres, alternate dimensions, warm, seen, and unseen.
Supreme: the mirrored star, silvered between fingers, separating; two from one; and as before; a noted frequency, in ten thousand orbits, lost once again, in wistfulness of, one from two.