seperation

the recipe called for yolks.

thin skins cracked on metal. oozing yellows surrounded by translucent sticky, she let the liquid slide from shell to shell. convincing that which was inseperable to slowly come apart. the finest jagged edge slicing through the membrane, sliding slowly into the awaiting glass.

the richest part was blended into awaiting sugars and butters and creams.
that which remained was stored for whipping into soft white shimmering peaks.

sounding out the sky

the rumbles reverberated through her. she was a sounding board for the rain. the echoes pulsated in droplets, sliding swollen from leaf to leaf.

the journey from knee to crotch was agonisingly slow. she counted four swift intakes of air.
the renegade rain drop collided her underwear. melted through cotton and hair onto skin.

she shuddered from spines to sacrum.
in time with the heavens

both pining for rain.

power surges and blackouts

paralysed in the black out. single bed soaked with shower water and sweat. relentless humidity provokes insomnia and libidinous thoughts. 

the taunting tempests, the distraction from diligence. 

it must be the weather that makes me this way. 

briney fingers  simulate sorbet and papaya fantasies. the room is pungent as my aching. i am relentless in my fixations. silver strands of salt slick up my spine.