settled dust in circles around a white square. charcoal clouds said hi and left with one tear. fuschia painted all over the west side of town, calling off our game. summer air carries flowers and heat i never knew could return. Airplanes too large to be believed as flying craft pass by on their way to release their energy on land in the form of walking talking people. A woman stands before me, present, judging only my pitch. I don't know her. But I know her since right now. I can feel the thread on the ball. I forget everything I know. I can make magic with this orb. Going to push it away from me as hard as I can.
