Today in the silver taxi in Herfortshire, the poet, dancer and taxi driver escaped. Death turned from their door. Death’s long cloak veered close, orchestrated two car’s mobid path, separated by a length of hair. Fragility cut our tongues as I swear the cars scraped each other, the speed, the closeness. I smelled the grave briefly, my heart pounded as the taxi driver swore. She (the woman driver) approached as if we were invisible and he held on swerved with the skill of a race driver. we drove for two seconds so close, a slim thread to paradise, I was sure we scrapped. No prayer passed my lips, no life flashed. I watched it, this inevitable crash silently, calm, waiting. There was nothing I could do. I knew then I did not want to die before my mother. I knew then that when the city swelters, the sun hides, lazy, heavy and dull, maddness rears it’s head.The other driver slowed to a death crawl, shaking her head.
death leap. The devil play big joke on all ah we
June 13, 2007 by angelicscribeHello world!
June 13, 2007 by angelicscribeWelcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!
