Relatively cold, this breezesome morning – bracing.
Their wake moves me.
Those in queue talk movies.
A live reading of “At The Entrance Of The Afternoon” & “A List Of Things I Noticed At The Harbour”.
A blaze-blue spirit, wonder-rapt.
The shimmershine of sweat shed through their painted, perfumed canvas caught the glist’ning glare of Horus ‘fore it soaked the linen veil that cloaked the contour-lines that led below their naveled peaks ‘n met between their thighs.
The girl knelt and stared at the grains, all gathered, of the hot, compacted sand, lowering her right hand slowly t’ward its canvas-surface.
Sunrise, then, o’er the city of the sceptre; dawn about the fort upon the chasm.
Ten days beyond a city sunrise.
Upon the breeze, life’s sounds did sail; the people pottered past.
The searsome sun seethes heathaze.
“More to see! The child who eats the twisting treat; the gull who rides the unseen surf.”
Breeze breaks in laughter loosed; kuhllainkkinkcnk sothairyugoe! hahihihihihuh hyeh-uh?!
Clouds cling – fast.
Paddling swan in feathers.