| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4436 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Regression Vienna (Carole Barley) Tongues come to me. We are evolved from fire, licked and melting, cooling to the strangest shapes of solidity. I run sharp landscape with bloodied feet, malpais drinks, porous and cunning. I am unable to choose my colour. I am mantled with dust, mouth the word Kikuyu without knowledge. Shells thread themselves about my wrists, become song, I suddenly sense how to dance, when the west wind holds the promise of water. The stillness between stars and earth is no mystery, I hold its exact shape in my palms, shift stones and gather sea-grapes, Fingernails sea bleached, ridged with time like trees that sailed with the adventurers. This is where the sun steals her flame, carries it aloft to create the day. I can clutch an age smooth bone in my fist, feel the pulse, the coordination of muscles; Hold an egg-stone, uncurl fingers to watch frail feathers evolve, be there at the birth of flight. |
