paraquiescence

Ginger Glass

words

the color of dusk

funnel up

from the belly

of the afternoon

kettle

-roll-

past inconsequential ribs

and round

the rim

-listen-

to the siphon's rush

exhaled on the tongue

extolled

someone is singing

a love poem

and the sound is shiny

shiny as dusk

through ginger

glass

paraquiescence

i like a moth baby

cocoon in the curve

of your fist

and drink light

from the sweat

of your palm

what's left remains

for the mirror

for the time

when libra luna

sleeps herself

into slow new mooning

death

until the dawn comes

unquiet

almost

but not quite

in acquiescence