The cracked teacup nested in the pool of rain, gold leaves wicked on its side and across the sodden grass like so many gloves.
Cold pink cloud drifts above, eyelet-laced at the edges, flattens, an amoeba spewing pink. Slouched in a plastic chair slicked with ice, I sit
Again and again you begin each night as if this faucet climbs only in the dark will widen its slow turn to reach the