Slow wave motions
Nightbirds . . ., originally uploaded by * Honest *.
Saturday I sang to you. I held you leaning in my lap, and moving my fingertips through your hair in gentle slow wave motions, I sang quietly, hushed and humming the only song that I knew. Your eyelids lowered, and I could sense in your sighing every fiber of you falling, sinking and subsiding before settling into the cradle of my body. The rise and fall of your chest, the steadied current of your breath pulling at the edge of some distant bluegreen ocean. Calming ebbs and flows of gentle slow wave motions. Saturday I sang to you the only song that I knew. I held you sleeping. In the drifting I breathe in your salty skin, and in your dreaming you awake alone before my song begins. Today I thought of things, like distance, space and time. I thought of you at sunset or in a certain light, your eyes pooling bluegreen sea. I thought of us floating in some deep, suspended here in soft transmissions of gentle slow wave motions.