Wink of I

I close one eye as a hint or signal.  Almost-gesture of complicity, alliance.  Miniscule nod of knowingness.  Nearly clandestine.  We are accomplice.

Subtlety.  In the colors of sunsets are moments.  Light in trees, precipitation, breeze and wind.  Occasions, occurrences.  A brush, a jolt, a catch, or slip.  Just there, just then, just whom.

Sum of an enormous fund of letters, sounds, marks, and inferences composing a confused and compossible khora of language actuated haphazardly in discourse, and conversation, a dated letter, an exclamation or response… one might say the signsea winks or glimmers.  A squinch or sparkle  of potential affinities and conflicts, affiliations and consorts.  Then gone.  A breath.  A…

Glance.  A glimpse shuttered quickly, asymmetrically.  What does it mean?  Something.  Something of nothing.  Like accident, collision, like misreckoning, mistake.  Like harmony, accord, or intercourse.

“in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, as a trumpet sound… the dead shall be raised, and we shall be changed”…(I Cor 15:52, changed).

Happenings, emergence, inceptions, conceptions, decisions, decease…moments, blinks, glints, such tiny gestures…

…and all shall be changed.

Picture, if you can, if you will, a spill of sonority, funneled through lung, through throat, whirling the mouth cavity, battened by teeth, and leaving the lips as a word… now whispering air as  smoky exhalation… mingling and woven in the voice of another… such breaths, these terms, these inscriptions… how they collide and collude, coalesce and caress, commingle and pass on…

Moments, instants, mishaps or miracles…and all shall be changed…or so it is written, supposed, and declared…

In the Wink of an I, there is difference.

for Jean Lee

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6 thoughts on “Wink of I

  1. I am utterly, completely…I feel the sinews of language pressing in my chest, churning my life and spreading it thin, so damn thin. Amidst the screams and punches my self suffers in these confinements, you transfuse, and I feel True Life. Hope.

    One day I’ll give you a big ol’ sloppy hug in thanks. 🙂

  2. Once again, (and never being disappointed in your writings) I am fascinated. Your writing style/language is very special and has an amazing spirit, yes, otherwise how could I read you with my poor English 🙂 What am I trying to say here, not easy but I will try, your writing skill, is more than using a language or writing in a language, words becoming all a kind of spirit… You can (I mean reader) only feel them (even you are still reading them)… it is something like that. Makes me so excited to read you dear N Filbert. Another note, you also picture the view for a moment of this wink of eye… Amazing. There is cinematic charm too in this wink of eye… Anyway, Thank you, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Love, nia

  3. This also comes by way of an apology.
    “When the territory of being is shared by one other then we ‘know’ who we really are!”
    Collusion then is of another dimension.
    For some time all comments to me have arrived in the improved editors page which i rarely use.
    Am embarrassed to find them in another location – don’t know why?
    My abysmal lack of technology may be to blame.
    Thank you for sharing this!
    Bridie.

"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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