Breadcrumb #276


I’ve long forgotten how to storm
a cup of oolong,
let alone how to read the leaves –

Years ago, I would’ve allowed you
to start the kettle & throw seed
to the birds. For moments

the sunflower husks form the shape
of your mouth peeled free & open
at the very end.

Now on television, a ballet
of yous fans in & out, one you
is wearing red lips while the other

cries into your knees. You wore
renaissance green in the spotlight,
but now the sun of my awareness

has departed & all I can see
is greyed over by the dust
carved beautifully

around your wrists.

• • •