Why is it that you never left
how can I bend my path to collect the ink
cloud?
Why measure bones for marrow?
This glass is empty; the liquid drained a dozen times.
hasn't it?
yet, and there is a yet, the vessel remains.
and functions; for blood, medicine,
milk into old age.
this obstinacy of quartz
movement lost in the bowels of the shelf.
--why did she save it? beyond singular--alone.
This is the cup I drink from--the one that
dies quietly and is forgotten.
Lovely to see you, the glass rim
a new vision of an old form of perfection.
