I wish I was a black wolf that could turn into mist.
I wish I was running through the woods and into the lake.
I wish I was diving, blue back to blue.
And everyone would poke their heads out and say comeback!
And everyone would be so mad.
And I would run and I would run and I would not understand them anyway.
I would just be a wolf in the woods.
Gone to mist.
The golden eagle swoops down and grabs me by its talons and I am the eagle and I am taking a nose dive but I bounce up, right before impact, I bounce up and I soar higher than I’ve ever gone. And this continues—with so much strength the air is sliced open by my beak—diving/bouncing to infinity, like a heart going into frenzy, forever.
Today is quiet and I feel other lives touching mine—and they are mine, except I can’t reach [the past] them. Books will steal your brain and leave a kaleidoscope in its place. I am restless and angry with myself. I am going to carry binoculars around so I can see what those trees are doing so far out in the lake—looks like it’s going to rain again. [A rabbit! Behind the fence.] We’ll meet on my neighbour’s roof.
—phone notes, June
The prompt: “when I speak of hunger I speak of – continue from this”
Feel free to try out the prompt and share your result in the comments, I’d love to read it.