Rain, starting

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

i love it here

in a post. I want to be remembered

i understand

i really havent