Ameriscopia

Swerver Says Sweeeee

60 Swerver Says Sweeeee let’s say the weaver has a conversation with the thread and the thread answers back with a tendril let’s say the tendril forms a rivering ribbon, cascading from moon to weaver’s tongue, let’s say mouth misses all the licks tongue used to play with, let’s say licks are silk, shining tufts of saliva fields, intertwirled around each other to form the one story that weaver has to say and let’s say all this has light and morning, attached to its growl and that twilight has no wash replacing light, no creation beyond the interstitial grace of a single blue thread flickering across the scar, of a slowly revolving lick ...