the adventure that calls to my bones is in the air i breathe; it calls from no one place but thrills my blood when I inhale, laced into my lungs is the quickened footstep of one out to find it, I am all caught breath and discovery waiting to turn the final corner.
mornings awake i found myself writing letters in the air, under my breath telling my secrets to the ghosts from last year.waiting for sunlight i’d pass the missing hours,pointing to the ceiling and with my fingerdrawing skylines and inescapable towers. this time last year I was sleeping in Kusadasi,and the year before that it was Venice.Back… Continue reading On summer and the waking hours
Such disconcerting unrestHas tightened all the muscles in my shoulders,as if to tug on a string and hold me in place, Just in the reach of calamity, Tense at rest. The disquiet in my gut is more than some Flimsy indigestion, some Gastric insurrection no, My body is restless and it knows, All of me… Continue reading on boarding