Thursday, April 18, 2013

18 - Deep Space (writing about an image)

There's a moment where she thinks she can fly,
feet cooled by the currents of air
that make the slender chains tremble

a breath

facing down into icy clouds
touching skin
a frozen kiss
toes curled

She's hanging from the walls
that block her sky
light rising
thin wooden seat only a mirage

Will it fade into smoke?
Will she join
the cold tumbles of white air
and translucent as glass?

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