Minima 2

Minima 2

Dense rich moist eternal compost sitting there forever turned into a diamond that is you, hard refracting cutting and beauteous even if just dust on the sidewalk of Brooklyn born by the wind.

Terminus, end point, location; a room with a view to the hills of Rome, each of us a sweeping vista of time, light and shade, flowing storm and clarity, breaking with lightning and thunder, convection, heat and cold, ice and dreams tossed in a physics with no container.

Later, lying on the sofa covered with Katherine’s blue plaid wool blanket, I listen to my heartbeat, the swish of blood through my body, and breathe slowly with its rhythm.   There is a sort of swooshing sound inside me and a vanishing as I enter the space between heartbeats with breath.

John Bailes, Kotatsu Roko

Saturday, 20 March 2010