Birkensnake 6

The way the sky wraps around the planet or weather wraps around your head. The way a walk takes you through time and space. The way sound takes the measure of place. The way passion diverts breath and blood. The way waves overtake the names lovers leave in the wet sand. The way the ocean’s undertow projects shadow onto the sky in the guise of gull flight. The way the flame of ignition sits for an instant at one end of the ring of gas before consuming it in sequence. The way the secrets you share can erect unforeseen barriers. The way a missing stroke of punctuation can change what you mean to say utterly. The way you hear your own voice from both inside and out when you read aloud, alone, and it’s late and the type slides down the page and you’re suddenly tired so tired so tired so tired …