Avian, and Lit by Air You are writing a sentence, and each of the days is a comma that pivots on sleep. You write with the entirety of your senses, and there is so much to say. Today a swallow veers so close through the rain that you can feel the fabric of flight, smell and taste the shadowy, wet path, a bridge glimpsed as the future shuttles into the past, moving through an immeasurable point that swoops, pivots, dives, while your mind pursues, leaving the dark singular stone of the body.
Avian, and Lit by Air.
Irwin, Mark
Avian, and Lit by Air You are writing a sentence, and each of the days is a comma that pivots on sleep. You write with the entirety of your senses, and there is so much to say. Today a swallow veers so close through the rain that you can feel the fabric of flight, smell and taste the shadowy, wet path, a bridge glimpsed as the future shuttles into the past, moving through an immeasurable point that swoops, pivots, dives, while your mind pursues, leaving the dark singular stone of the body.