wama

Sometime after 08.14.06

At the eye of the storm, the center of the wirlpool the sea is glassy and calm. Flat. We spin in a circle slow slow slow gliding slick. We do not leave a ripple. We see for eons. Layers of what is to come and that before we were born. We breathe it all in lightly. Rows and rows of sediment implore us up and out. The rivermouth drops its jaw to us. This way.

posted by la kara @ 06:18