by Amy Cavanaugh
Tonight
I possess the gliding tides of water:
Translucent and true.
Their perfect perfumes
Foam and bubble
To coat the surface.
Beneath the surface
The wondrous water
Knows no streak of daylight.
Diligently
Like a drink
It hydrates
My awakening face
My brown curls
And that intangible wonder
Dubbed 'a mind.'
Like a sun of night
The light
Perches above the known tan sink.
It beams
Because
It perceives
My introversion.
Last updated June 25, 2011