From the bottles of the forworn memories
that on the counter I amass
I pour to the endlessness
of this glass
saluting to the chronicle of the endless queues
decanting and disappearing in the quenching
of the past.
In the aquarium of this chalice
the fishes of unseen magical angles
whirl among the swollen scales and spangles.
And “now”
in trace lines of reminiscence
slips through forever like fishes
among the awaiting bottles,
to engrave their bone
in my dishes.
