Interac Problem

Dingy light drawn from the spoon’s belly

through a pinch of cotton—

your eye sips the murky puddle down to white crust

that flakes from silver.

A bloom sang in the barrel taking the vein.

Wander through me.

You’re my inside overcoat for any weather.

Pressed from flowers.

This thorn. Ease off. The needle drops.

Strike a match. Exhale—

the ash falls defying the pull, tumbles

down a white sheet.

You close all distance, hold me closer— I wake

a grey light hung on walls

the reason for dissolving in the absence remains.

Into a flower shadow

this love of feeling numbs. A grey pervades.

The charred spoons.