Memory leads to event, which undoubtedly
leads to a person, specifically one,
your mind a marvelous interchange,
directing seamless traffic over multi-layered
bridges from Here to There.
You were thinking, then, you're sure:
until the sun melts through the curtain,
and the carpet hairs bristle with anticipation,
each standing so individual;
everything popping out
with the purity of a smooth juicy pear,
and finally we can make sense of smiles.
With a flick of the neck, the mind unvanishes
cementing color and touch into hopeless memory,
and then you start to think
about how long you've been sitting there,
watching the carpet hairs grow.
No comments:
Post a Comment