The wind teases the curls in my hair Sultry breezes soak my silk shirt, causing the cloth to cling to my chest. As I grip my skirt, we slip into the plum blackness of the night sky. Your breath cools my neck as we watch moths disappear into the dark. The smoked ash of Georgia fogs coats us- scattering the lights of streetlamps. The entire world is void and you and I are the only ones in it. Your palm in my palm. Your eyes watch my eyes as they drift over our silhouettes. Our shadows dance on the pavements. We laugh- thinking of ourselves catching moths in our hands. Feeling their bodies pulsate in our grasp.
In the beginning everything was still. Then there was an itch or ache and totality stirred. A dance was born. Wave after wave of color emerged. Rains of sound were released from the center. The original impulse became two, trees, fire. Its unity was broken, reflected from a trillion eyes. Rhythm appeared as an essential trait. Pulses emanated, at times violent, at times sad. Wonder and angst ******* inside the skull’s crater. A mad civilization rose, structure after structure. A sea of ideas now saturates the air. Here we are in this vast corner surrounded by a cosmos. We are the same as IT. These images are throbs of that primordial energy. I have created nothing new.