Things drop through on occasion. You catch the sparks in your peripheral in time to watch the sky rip.
Like waves crashing in reverse.
Something over the hills has a glow, you never notice until it reflects off the froth spilled from atmospheric entry.
Wonder what that's all about.
***** says she met a guy, says he came right out the sky. Broke his fall in the Ivory Tars where he'd be to this day if it weren't for an edlergunt with eyes bigger than its mouth. ***** says he left his skin in the clouds and he pointed it out to her and she thought she saw it but wasn't sure.
Frankly, I'm not sure about *****.
If some skin's in the clouds it's only
because she put it there.
And we will
never ever
get it out.

Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: vistas