into feathery paper
Staccato swish back and forth till all line up
(at least one thing she can control in the swirl of life all around)
her action brings death,
there’s art and beauty in the banality
(like a photographer winding film in a darkroom)
A white filter placed at one end –
then a roll, a lick, a stick & a twist.
She holds it between two fingers, then to her lips
and the foreign object becomes an
extension of her Self –
waiting for ignition
paused in a reverie
as the metro car rolls on –
Heart somewhere suspended between
black beanie and ripped jeans –
longings held in the blurred space
between sleep and waking as she gazes resolutely
into the unknown
(She tells herself the stump between her teeth gives meaning to the now)
Rennes, France
Oct 3, 2018
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