viewing reality
through a light caramel
tinted glass,
figures become
blended into the atmosphere
like tiny colorful
blotched smudges
within a painting.
the words so gentle and still in precision– being plucked from the bag of
vocabulary–
how they thoughtfully and ever so graciously dilute the route of syntax, sprinkling
the leaves in fields with poppy seeds.
the third caramel elixir
goes down as I look through
its emptiness and see her naked
body standing beside me.
she opens the window and carefully
brings a flame towards her mouth,
making sure she leaves
patterns in the wind
as tiny dancers lunge
from her parted lips.
E. Eliot, USA
The Social Poet 