Chilled~

The fringes of my skin
are undeviating-
fluently drinking in
coffee's reaction
with my memory,

a kind of adept
craft.

When my brain floats
somewhere on an
island,
and I still sip
from a porcelain vial-

elucidation
from your grasp.

And I can't help
but feel smoothness
run like a theme
down my throat,

is there more
or is all clarity
of who you are
to me,

consumed?

Written July 13, 2012 at 5:18 pm.