Tattered tapestries woven of similar threads

With no end in sight, burning the other end

Silhouetted against the dimming light

Freeing the monsters residing within

Harmonious, fluid and in motion with each other

Metronomes, beating in sync and in time

Pulsating with every brush

Creating birth earthquakes within their bones

Sliding like tectonic plates

Over, across and under the sharp edges of their existence

Reverberating their very soul

Lost in the moment, lost to the joys of friction

Sending waves and aftershocks down the peninsula of their toes

Eyes open, eyes closed

Breathing high, breathing low

Creating the sounds only they know.


Michelle Mushtaq /Intimacy/