the air is visible around you, rising up and off your lips in slow currents and I watch as your face is framed in it’s slow currents drifting curls, a trailing path a long drag becomes a tress of blue and ash. The air is visceral around us turning in its simple steps on slow currents and I watch as it pirouettes and spins in slow motion a long drag comes a slow dance in a halo of ember -dashboard-
No comments:
Post a Comment