A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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December 2008, vol 4 no 4

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N.C. Whitehead



My blood is flowing through your veins right now, little parts of me intermingling in the darkness of your flesh. Random eccentricities you have now are not truly random: the way you tilt your head; your frowning at random scents; the sudden darting of your thoughts in never before sought directions.

Just close your eyes and dream of me. I am the consciousness you will never know yet have already known down to your bones.

ancient rock...
I once stared out
from this cliff face

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