Monday, January 24, 2011


rays of sun hit the side of my palm as i hold my tea cup at the kitchen table.
the shadow of the Hoya is broken by the corner of the wall.
and out the window the trees shadows on the hillside mark the snow in rays of grays and purple.
my houseplants dream of warm water on their leaves and i, of the sun on my naked skin.
the warmth of my tea cup seems futile in my dream as i sit in the silence of the cold.

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