There: the murmuring music of blackflies
in my ears, the haunting hum of crystal wings
hovering so near! One magnificent creature
lands gently as a fat mosquito,
washes his face with dignity, and bites.
(Slap-smack. Oh gosh, ew, oh—)
II.
Tendrils of smoke rising from the fire
feather delicately at the edges,
hot ashen ghosts tearing themselves apart
against the canvas of a dark sky,
or billowing gently on the harsh
evening wind straight into my open mouth.
(Cough cough hack—sorry, I just—cough—)
III.
Is there a sensation more glorious than
running on smooth sand by a shimmering ocean?
Cream-colored drifts are gently shifting
beneath my feet like
the restless waves themselves,
and catching the sun's embracing warmth to
paint it across my cheekbones,
for when my foot sinks too far and I fall.
(—Nobody saw that? Right?)
IV.
Oh, the distant strains of melody
as soft as fairy-music—how their approach
gladdened my heart moments ago!
The mellow taste of ice cream
lingers pleasantly on my tongue,
so sweet and so cold,
though the crunch of your tires over my bone
was less than gentle.
(No—did that just—MY LEG!)