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Likened to an upheaval, the drawing lifted it's head as it's fingers

splayed out on the page, warning and confrontation flexed in

every curve. The summoning power of the author 

harmonised movement with radio waves and knocked on doors

long cobwebbed and rusted. Mentioned in the lines was a coronation

of bouquet source, flourished and triumphed. Like a medley, the

shading talked around corners and into hallway delight. Voices from

the alleyways of shape crooned silently seeing far too long into

tomorrow. The orifices of block ink trapped gales of storm open

mouthed – gateways to forever's end. The drawing crept like a car

crash across the page, multiples of fractals defrayed. There is no 

roof here, the outline works like a runway and the angles binge

on open air, hungry like a graph. Somewhere in here lies a crescendo,

hiding about to burst. Sitting back, the drawing shifts dimensions and

all was not what we thought.

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About the author:

Nicolee Ferris

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Nicolee Ferris resides in Sydney with her two best friends and two cats. She has worked for various underground goth and metal magazines as producer and journalist and has had poetry published internationally as song lyrics. Nicolee is in a black metal band, enjoys travel and writing.

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