Saturday, May 5, 2012
I see them sitting on the couch.
They're soft and unfocused.
Eyeing every movement, every breath. Inside of me, every cell is
A L I V E
P E R C H E D
A T T H E E D G E
P R E P A R E D
F O C U S E D
I smell every subtle scent, feel every shift in cells surrounding me, taste the target.
If I were a football lineman the quarterback would taste grass, hands still holding the ball. Basketball: my shots would sift through the net. Painter: the line would flow, no pause. Piano: the keys are my fingers.