unclenching

not writing for this long has been a hibernation, i feel sleepy and stretchy like dough. knead me in, roll me out, and pat me on a cluster of coals. all it will take is a warm nuzzle, and i'll rise like a colonel's drying moustache.

it's good to have the sleep drip off, it's nice to feel the sun on my opening palms, nice to tell the world again of caterpillars pausing nose in the air and of an origami swan's rasping flight. how chameleons melt peacefully on hot concrete and about tight fistfuls of red worms twisting in a monsoon orgy. about invisible provocations only a kitten can see and shifting corridors of wind only a swallow would know.

and this is where thought leaps free of words and words scramble for purchase on the rising slope of a sigh. if i could just put my finger on the heart of this knot, and tie the thoughts in with a doublelooped move. if only they wouldn't sprint so far ahead of the grasp of language. if only they would stick around and play in my lap a while.
a girl can get lonely, out here on a limb.