Tuesday, October 23, 2007

I don't know if language hovers between my nerve endings and the world, or if language is my skin itself.

Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.

No comments:

Post a Comment

'serpent of leaves' appears in impromptu dance

Dancing over a rabbit warren in the roots of a green ash that was infected by the emerald borer and was cut down years ago, I wove my way up...