Twist

I call Indigo the world’s most luxurious, most mysterious color – and even more so when riding on texture.  I call textured Indigo Isaiah’s waters covering the sea.  And she walked in on twin suede shoes cut from the cloth of night; even the fabric twist across the toe was but the demise of a star - its last breath exhaled like stardust wings beating in space.  Does she know that she wears the foreshadowing of the Author?  I am reminded that I breathe in the universe.  Twist.  I breathe out.