mackerel skies line the ceiling of my world today. little bands of white clouds hide evasive strains of the sky. in this same way she hides those parts that don't want to be seen. with fuzzy edges and transparencies she divulges clues that let me triangulate her position.
matching the moves of another emotional nomad is almost as challenging as figuring out the twists and redirection of your own heart. this is especially true when your heart wants to dart and turn like a minnow fleeing a prey.
is it a game of predator and prey? the way people move between camouflage and presence like a changing of moods?