I drew the arc about the line
and bent it back
I recalled the form of dress on body
and the form of flesh on bone
in my imagination
I remembered warmth
and shivered in the sea of night
I drew the breath
that rose above the bed
and felt it close around me
I dreamed of colors
I had never mixed together
–
Take a photograph, a splash
of light across your lips reflects
the sharpest taste of the still life.
–
The script is ready,
will be acted with dynamic passion
once the role is cast,
her shadow's arms are tangible
and the grey silence of lines unread
unbearable.
The hands are empty,
long to pluck at the lute strings
in the blue cabaret,
I long to learn the instrument
that ripples lightly through the songs of
innocence.
Ink Tea Stone Leaf 
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