ever dumbening flecks of bone float around a broken hip, a ninety-nine year old hip.

flecks of blood fly from a knife at a neck; an image of impermanence becomes a permanent image.

flecks of water, thinly high above, cast a vague shade, an eclipse-like shade on this perfectly halved day.

flecks of poison, self-inflicted, swim inside now body now mind.

flecks of past and (im)possible futures tango in last night's dream.

flocks of long-necked birds, white with black wing bars, start across the morning sun, reminding the mind.
what's it to you?
who go