The Fog

Obviously Kate Bush

I asked myself what this white
And black frequency was between
Us, like the invisible words and images
In constant exodus between antennas 

And towers. Falling across, crumbling
Like cliffs against a cold ocean,
Thoughts succumbed to the chemical
Arrows that flew through that fog

Between our bodies like a shroud
Separating worshipers from altars:
Our names, the sound of our voice,
The smell of our breath the first time.

Author's Note

first draft

image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/12732693@N03/