POEM: BOTTLED GRATITUDE

She doesn’t practice for perfection
And doesn’t bake her confection
Hoping that one taste
Will be the last

She practices for displacement
Feet lifting of the pavement
She forgets her play
Elevates our tastes

I asked her after the show
How did she know
That her touches
Would leave me whole?

She said there was no way
That she could portray
The reason why weight
Made us feel empty

---

I drove too fast
Down a back road
Just off the exit
As a pen ends a tome

My hand wrote symbols
The wind could see
Wrapped in a promise
Of a budding lime tree

My mouth tasted evergeen
When I summed ways
This moment had cleared
Despite how trouble likes to stay

---

Spinning the task
Her love in a flask
Holding me, drinking air

Dichromatic
Blue hot static
Melting in swirls and tears

Heat upon heat
Can only retreat
Slowly over a day

I wondered if
I gave her enough
Or if I should turn and stay

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