Lazy afternoon sun Keeps me at the doorway Mug in hand Sipping rose hip tea Allowing it to seep into taste buds Breaking contact To gaze at stilled umber water grounding my body in warmth As floral powder holds a hint of dirty Spice I dip a paintbrush in— splatter it across smooth white paper In one S w e e p i n g motion Holding still as tea drips from paper to ground, Mesmerized by the way you dry into indents Little dull craters, time-stamped ridges Against a blinding white A view that I hold and R I P Into two halves As the sun disappears into the moon A hint of rose. An empty cup sits Cold With no where to go.
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 