Page 30 - Contrast1990

But the vision
of wheat exploding
like a bright fingersnap
finally reminds me-

I am the sage who pours
water on the fire and disappears
with the eager steam leaping
free from mud and ash
into deep blue Nothing.

Residual Face
by Laura Balakir

In my eyes you see that hint
of a moment ago ...

An instant when
I felt your arms around me-
A reflection on

Moving water

Flowing in my eyes
and turning my lips
into a twist of

private pleasure
held motionful.

You cup the water
in your hands
to splash my face-
Create a portrait
still in time, still in change
of, perhaps,

a moment ago.

It's now, and I look over
and smile-raise an eyebrow.

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