Into the currents she’s drawn as she fades
Her smile set melting away
Tell them I was only thinking of tiled ceilings
And playful repose
A sweet lie told truly to her mind
Sport’s bar busy
She’s lots and drifting in the patterns
A peaceful storm
Feelings surge gracefully on thoughts unbidden
Aching of want
Dare you touch the porcelain balance
Will she break or mould
3–15–22
