365: 06.02.09
I see you walking in my dreams, splinters of invincible movement from the corner of my eye, fiction and blood drowning together, the colours thicker than in photographs of your eyes. Winter shifting out of December, reaching forward to pull Spring out of the calloused clouds, (the random smell of flowers dripping in the wind), wondering what waiting will bring. Dreams of airports and shredded letters, structures built of running faster, learning the contours of your hands. I think of the chambers of the heart and name them in order, atria and ventricles, the left and right of each. I think of tracing patterns, explaining the history of the word skin, from the German word scinten or schinden, to flay, as I peel back electric layers of myself and still discover you there.