You know that all-encompassing, butterflies in the belly, shivers up the arm sensation you get when you stumble across something creative?

Her eyes glisten in the sun and spin in the wind, They are the window to the cyclone within, But I wish she had sober eyes. I wish she...

the pedals spun with a sound like crickets and crickets sung like ball to wickets above, ball-bats circled like vultures and distant...