Moment, into air. Nomadic. Collapsing into sound, a polar bear breeze exchange. It
came in the morning like dew, knocking at the Pantheon door. The steward grabbed the
matchsticks. All but one had been burnt. If they were to take
the light from the stars, this was their chance. The sound from the sea coming from the
hole in sky told them where to go.
The soldiers arrived. Only then, was I pulling the fish off the hook. Shoved through the
narrow corridor into the stadium, there were blue flashes of light again. A large pile
of ashes sat in the corner, and I wondered where the bluegill had gone.
Horses bent their knees at the gates waiting to be pet by the sun. I realized Tuesday
is the last day before it comes again. Like tourists we mapped our lines with chopped
down trees and flashes of light.
(Source: leafe zales)
(Source: leafe zales)
Ratio of the length of its slope to its width that never ends or begins. Air Tran.
Peel apart your papers, prop them against the wall. Roll down a hill, bruise yourself,
jump off a cliff you might release your shoot. Altitude straight through the vortex,
the foot. three later you hit the orthocenter.