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Skimming the Distance We cruise slim surfaces. Afraid to burst the crème broulee, we miss the crackling picot. A caramel parting of thin lips, revealing milky viscera, sends sudden splash of raspberry across the palate floor. We miss much more. We do not dredge for drowning child, we trust the sun reflecting on the mirror of the pool to testify alone. All surfaces prevaricate, crocodiles or hippos can be lurking just inside a fen of slough Yet, kingdoms of chromatic fishes swirl inside the rhythm of a passing undertow The only warning might be bubbles surfacing; impending feelings of fragility of soul |
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