I dissolve slowly as the day blows through, trailing snips and snails in these gales of sweat and ash. Clues left where no-one is looking, crumbs dropped despite being well out of the woods. The sky lulls as the flocks assemble. The shadows tremble as the dogs kick up the dust.
The afternoon is given away to these sparks and incongruities. The dull lament of the earth aching for rain, the languid fervor of language, raw and glistening upon the shell. Detail always the known devil, that slip of choice weaving through the dark. The ground swells with muted potential, the slow press of life enduring. New rivers adrift upon the desert of all that ever was.
I leave no stone, no flag, no spark. I leave no story but waves of trash and indolence. The wind wicks away flecks and traces, my history just flesh entombed in this crawling wake, my legacy only the sifting of matter as it shrugs it shoulders. Mass moved and mass held, the strictures of essence mostly a fairy tale played out. Ever after always exceeding the once upon a time. My grave vast and open, growing day by day. My name relinquished to the syllabary of the wandering sky.