“Heaven and earth,
Distant and elusive in its schisms
As we transcend the limits of the universe
Breaching endless skies
As a speck of dust streaming through islands of stars”
“I like it,” he said ” you should read it to your mother, it will remind her that she’ll be dead soon, hahaha”
She places the manuscript in her purse, ease out of her chair, stretch herself across the table, spit in his soup, sat back down and resumes eating her chow mein.
He stares at the white foam in the soup,
Floating; North, Northeast, East, Northeast, West …
“XOXO darling” he whispers into the air.
Project: Where are we going?
Series: Imaginary Conversations.
all content © 2011