There is a seam in my glass mug, but no hem and no zipper.
What holds the two edges together? What keeps the neck from raveling?
The mug is wearing a glistening pendant with transparent chain:
A bead of moisture suspended, a sweet drop of rain.
Her skin is the color of coffee: trembling, scented, reflective.
There is conversation: memory: faded print, falling away.
October 25, 2021
.
[ 1268 ]
Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Coffee, Conversation, Diaries, Journals, Memory, Pendants, Poems, Poetry, Rain, Scent, Skin
William Michaelian 