Feb 7, 2009

A Coffee Sensation

I breathe warmth, slowly onto the tip of my forefinger
in the position of a snapped finger, at this cold, cold moment

Its scent like diminishing chakras
Blows away into spiral ended curls and is continuously resuscitated
Into fading pulses

I am led to believe that this breath will last forever
I treasure the colour each ring provides

The moon lights the bed
And the shimmering blanket high above

I blow again.

Just to watch what it does...
To see whether it will use the same palette to disappear
To see whether this controlled anger has a steady behaviour

I persist with the warmth of a whisper
I whisper till the kettle whistles
I wait till it churns to a radio static

To let my fingers sway to its current


No comments:

Post a Comment