Stavanger Bay i'm moving into stillness

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she honed in on his inky lips and his pirate smirk morphed in her mind.  suddenly they were the briny waves as they crashed upon the angry and jagged rock precipice to the west.  she imagined his laugh would cause the sea to tremble and shake before it shifted to the poetic cacophany of roaring whitewater.  

her immediate deference to him dissolved as soon as he allowed, and the songbird let her lukewarm eyes trace the shadowed lines beneath his angled and masterfully sculpted bones. in her mind she had already crafted him as a metaphor -- this strange man was the streak of hot silver that split the heavens before a downpour, he was the elegant grace of the gulls who sailed over the bay, he was a summer breeze over placid ocean waters.

a ghost of a smile played at the edge of her lips, and she regarded her next words carefully.  i remember every name that has ever been given to me, everyone i have ever met.  i weave stories from the fibers of the wind; i covet the experiences of strangers and hold them with greedy jaws.  if it seemed cryptic it was not intentional.  despite her willingness to be straightforward with the conquerer of these queer lands she would not allow her strange nature to be suffocated to fit in.

 

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