Some shapes

Some shapes wade in through my mouth. They linger in the narrows, lapping against the ballast of my tongue, gently rocking the roots of my teeth. Some shapes sneak in through the corner of my eye. They slip through soft footed covering their tracks, traveling untraceable as they glide through the pass. Other shapes climb in through my right ear. Settling in a washed out cleft, braced and secure against the eminent tides. Some shapes are breathed in, absorbed through fingertips, carried on the skin before sinking heavy and released again.