SWIM

            SWIM

            Black for slow-blink and don't want.

            Memories of face running over the sky,

            a brief feeling of romance – a visscitude

            of tangle.

            Close eyes, the room remembered, the

            wave of nauseic denial trying to

            catch me in a rip back out to

            sleep. It can't. My consciousness

            swims to well. I look at the

            fractal pattern of the back facing

            me, the moles, freckles and stroke

            the arm that holds my other.

            Feline instinct jumps from a

            window gaze and on to.

            Ligtening tapers ignition sifting

            and holds the All to business.

            Unfinished.

            080515

            Nicolee Ferris