Limbs full of sparklers.

Before I was born- Was I the vaporized residue of another's dream? An echo of a desire never acted upon but thought so strongly it became real somewhere else? I am how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop- the World may never know.

So I turn. not to dreams. not to memories.
So I turn. into something.

A stale captain swooning in faint
over the orchid down haze of an air to his cheek
that of fine salt, fine water, and finer breeze.
"You saltine!"~{stillness}


......



(a reply~)!!! (((oh,why,oh,me,oh- I .)))

"You... cusp!", from the teeter totter potter with rose hands to his hips toting grips.
and he continued...
{to make room in life by removing one's life}
"I've got all six and I'll sit you done with just one. The other five are for fun, spite, because, why not, and no good reason."
-Commences the laughter of a gun. {the six chamber reservoir of run-on sentences with sharp punctuation}

The grizzly arching brow of the captain peaked and his feet called to port a well fed retreat.
But.
His salt and meat gave in to lead and heat and his little unbeknown leaf made like the season fall and fell six feet slowly.
~
And begin the residues and echos*

This is how I was made. A life collapsing in on itself, coming apart by particles, and coming back together in a brand new way.
A stranger meeting a stranger over and over again.
An echo echo echo echo echo echo echo echo echo echo echo.....