SHADOW BOXING WITH THE OCEAN by Henry R. Williams
Memories buttered minefields clog Elias’s neural pathways, undone shutdowns he had bargained gods for, passing scent cleared as if lightly perfumed air were as striking as brush by of Salome’s arm hair, as if relocated dreams really were the conditions of desire met by a silly boy chained to inhale what pumpt thru vent or window. I see him now with heel stumble at rotating door, one crowded recollection from obscurity presumed like potential of a cat’s eye marble shooter balanced on a pin tip. I have tried to write a pair of dice, but they would not move, nor tumble, nor shake, not for wind and waves and tremors which linger in the legs after the earth’s quake.
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