annus mirabilis
“Then three sips of coffee, and a window opened. ”
Small vials stacked on the armoire
witness the movement of things. Blue
and brown winking glasses. Darkness
spilled as the shape of my desire. No
one thing will contain me. How do you
hold paradox? I need to take some time
away from sand and stone. The wind
undresses my skin and stamps each cell
with its label. Everyone wants something.
Especially me. I poured oil on the mirror
and set it horizontal. Will you dip your
hands into the image that slips between
your fingers? I want to ripple smoothly
beneath your tongue like sap drips from
the maple tree. Too slowly to watch.
Photo source.
