woman horizontal | the sound of him

he wakes whistling, thrilled by the zipping wind he conjures and reshapes into sharps and flats snaps a crisp unpatterned rhythm with supple-skinned thumb and middle finger (wiped dry between refrains) flickering his wrist for triumphant emphasis mutters a play-by-play commentary to an imagined audience of rapt gamers punctuated with shrieks, chides, wails and groans…