Friday, July 10, 2009

the vernacular of blessing compels you forward
through saucered cups and ritual brunch
smacking politely on triangles of jam
and spotting, with squinted eyes,
a hushed murmur
and darted glance
poised to strike
with languid vigor the gaze's mocking descent
unusurped
left unfinished
a lineage
of saucered cups

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