elements, cattle, and mysterious strangers

day 17 at 30/30.

vii.11 - zinc - galvanize
vii.12 - nickel - nikolaus, she said
vii.13 - hop, skip and jump
vii.14 - silver - conversation with a silver chalice
vii.15 - zebra in b flat major
vii.16 - selenium - serenade in f minor: sixteen people, locoweed and cattle at full moon
vii.17 - an angel dangles her legs from a low-lying cloud

an angel dangles her legs from a low-lying cloud

this side of the blue, a cloud is my home. i sit and dangle my legs
in time with the opening of buds. orange is my favourite colour
today. there is no doubt about the flavours of the week: chili pepper,
stale gun smoke, the stubble-covered skin of strangers. i pick up
a knave of spades. my halo wobbles. a story shatters at my feet.

a hand stops me from tying up loose strands. i taste the stranger's
accent before he speaks – four millimetres of butter on a thick slice
of black bread. he wears mystery like a handsewn shirt, like chain
mail on a sunny afternoon. he steps into a circle i have drawn in my
sleep, claims the space of an eyelash, says nothing about my irises.

and i dangle my legs and ask about the last time he held a lemon-
coloured flower in his teeth, the angle of the moon above his city.
he smiles. curiosity killed the cat, he says. but then – a cat has nine
lives. he blinks as if day had come early, twirls my heart around without
lifting a finger. i want to tie him to my apron strings, bruise his mouth,

scratch out the purple lettering of his past. what's in your gun, i ask.
the touch of a butterfly wing, a pinch of sunrise, frivolous pastiches
of an otherworld; his words melt into my sky. and i dangle my legs
and ask his name, but he has already turned to go. he no longer reads
my lips. but i know what he would reply: a name is a name is a name.


song of the day: clouds across the moon by rah band