BY DOROTHEE LANG
The routine of getting. The ir/relevance of things. The way your hands wrap around me, like a wave reaching for a shell on a dark beach with liquid lips, trying to pull it back into the space underneath the visible world, trying to make it all yours again. And there you were, believing that the rest of the world would remain off guard, afloat in its sleep until the rain ended.
***
Dorothee Lang is, among other things, a freelancer, a gardener, a capricorn, a traveller, and the editor of BluePrintReview, an experimental online journal. Her work has appeared in The Mississippi Review, qarrtsiluni, Pindeldyboz, eclectica, Pequin, juked and numerous other places. She lives in Germany.
A-minor 
chillingly beautiful.. like a cold wave
There’s a rap-like urgency to this that is amazing.
Exquisite. A jewel formed from words.
Beautifully set at the border of the visible and invisible worlds. The exchange between the two evokes all kinds of transformings.
Just plain awesome.
deliciously sensual and erotic, with undertones of disturbing. succinct and beautifully crafted!
thanks for your feedback! yes, a story from another place. the first draft of this story actually was inspired by a challenge in a magazine called “tongues of the ocean” (http://tonguesoftheocean.org) – and in the end, it wasn’t the words (“float, lizard, rain, sleep, fire”) but the magazine title that sparked the story.
wonderful piece, dorothee, love how you play with language and moods here. you must be a moody creature yourself or perhaps you live(d) with one…
Lovely piece. Your revel in word and play and it all rolls lush-like off my tongue. Peace…