February 2019

I love a slant of light across a snakewood floor – in the black ink of night a path oblique and clear. I close my lids for vision – lay down to take a stand.

In the muscle of a brawny shoulder, I sense a tender touch. In the drape of gauzy fabric beneath a leafy frond, I summon up an edge. In sync with instincts of a leopard, lairs of civilization contort my intuition. In the sea air, I find my footing. In the night, I find the light. Read More »