steam rising from the gravel on the road

[Poe D'Angelo]

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     Aleeex! -tackleroll-

I am writing graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of how hard we tried

     The music skimmed over the small waves like a sea bird; a wide-winged glide, catching the air currents with effortless intuition, unmoved by the world's insistent pumping of blood below these whims. It wound around the wooden sides of a small boat rocking it with its rhythm, lulling the even smaller captain away from her task at hand. It had been a long time since she had heard the hum of a stringed instrument, and it conjured memories of the times passed, when it had been commonplace, when she had played her own. It was not perfect, but it was beautiful and seductive to the girl who followed songs like stories, like paintings and heartbeats. Two lobsters squirmed in distress at her feet, caught in a weed-covered trap that she pushed away with her foot while allowing the chain connected to another spill between loosened fists, careful not to allow it to clatter against the metal rim of her vessel. The buoy dropped after it, and Poe rowed into shore with keen ears guiding her to the source she sought.

     When she found it--found her more precisely, she made no attempt to hide her approach, for manners or for stealth, let alone subtlety. In a pale yellow sundress, blotched with salt water, the undersized wolf walked almost to the coyote's side, eyes on the movement of her hands, practiced fingers. The easy gait came to a standstill, and she watched with attentive ears and childish eyes.

oh, no don't close your eyes

Table by Tammi![/html]