Rudiments
"It's cold in here."
"It always is, isn't it?"
a future engine hums as mammoth breath. a roll of thunder, lung drumming and loose mucus.
the smell of jet fuel-stained hairstrand inhaled by men. will wait ages for paradise. tapping feet and fingernails on wood - a paradiddle, buzz roll, rudiments I learned in drum practice. want salt-spray in my eye & wave crash through windshield of nothing(air), so how do I get there?
I concentrate on left-right-left-left-right-left-right-right. fingers as hummingbirds and heart like wings. impatience a learned trait. the older I get, the more anxious. the more sweat. the more nailbite and lipchew - from one foot to the other. my stance screams it, uncomfort-as-she-is.
when did we meet and why did we cross? blended sweet & dry wheat, loss of colour on my side. your moss vivid & moist & intangible. a house of cards and lost dimple, wishes well off and pennies simple to flick down the echo hole. floats like concrete, sinks - you wonder if she heard it even hit the surface. you wonder if the songbird even had a purpose -
you wait for your window seat/elevation/eardrums crackle/pressure/ringing/drinking.
you wait for a meet/anticipation/fear comes/patchwork earth, scissor it up, fold and keep in your furfold.
layover, lay under me.
thumbpress my cheeks and starry eyes.
undress me for a week & then wave goodbye.