Ten to Six

Fiery breath smokes the air.

I inhale through my mouth and hold the air fast,

And hold myself still.

My eyes roll backwards as my shoulder stretches,

Strumming a tendon into tremors

producing in me

trembles from the

strange vibrations.

Shades drawn tight against the sky’s night.

Cicadas chirpin’ lazy protest.

I espy a note on my coffee table:

“Ruin your own show. Don’t feed me soft words, when my eyes go hard.”

My cheeks burn vermillion in the morning air.

Sly smile.

I will wear my hair straight today.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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