Feathers felt in the deepest hollows of the heart,
little invisible quills that write their messages in the mind,
feeling lightheaded as if on a buoy riding the sea,
swaying, while being held by unseen hands,
between subtle caresses of elation and euphoria.
Then there are the smothering seconds
of instinct's crippling hesitations,
some resonance rises from a room or landscape
that touches in a gaze as if it were lightning,
insides begin to suffocate from a sense of dread,
breathing becomes shallow, heart pounds
intuition screams that a menace left a fingerprint
as a transparent aura, which shakes so intensely within,
unsure if it is ghost or angel,
just aware it isn't mortal.
Surreal visions race through the head,
strange mental concoctions of disquieting portrait,
they wrap around one's mood
with mixtures of fear and curiosity.
It is when the wind blows with a chill
during the middle of the summer,
while standing inside the house with the windows closed
and no fan running.
They are all the brushes of ethereal lips
kissing the soul's membrane
leaving a quiver that lingers in disheveling traces
one can't explain.
Gold trophy winner
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