The shape of her breath
As she whispered softly spoken syllables into my ear
The warmth of her breath hung suspended
Long enough for the last word
To climb into my consciousness without falling on deaf ears
Their meaning finds solitude in the silky shadows that shape the softness of her voice
Every single letter of every single intonation
Kicking it with the ideas waiting to become the streams of unconsciousness that haunt me in forgotten dreams
Seeping slowly through familiar riverbeds once occupied by ocular reflections of light
As each regretless syllable makes their way out in an oceanic sigh
And then only the loneliness of silence
*Read while listening to: Josh Pan - Blue Velvet












