“Where is your voice?”
The rook stole her cries…sheen of amniotic breath. A gift. A baby in a cradle, day long silence. She moves not an inch. Something must be wrong. With her…
… “Where are you when your eyes stain black?”
Death keeps company, it’s there in the touch. Our fingers graze as I walk towards sleep, ‘tomorrow’ the only words escaping our lips…lips…the most full kiss…
…"When you do speak, your words are of no language. No tongue. Who comprehends?“
I can’t get the texture and colors to translate…but the music…the music… …Who speakseasy? The latch is set in its ways…
…"You frustrate. You distance. You sense and go senseless"…
…I strange the environs I invade…reptilian blood, in sleep I day. I deja vu. I never truly cross over… I crossroad. He’d sleep upright, finger on the trigger… …They taught me well…
…"An education in what?”
…In going to Hell…
E.A. O'Connell
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