water sits in untouched cups
the walls are reflecting white
the dust floats past my eyelashes
just visible in the paintbrush light

ice is drawn across my skin
rush hour has a start
a horse above the kitchen sink
when will my mind depart

the sun is on our side this time
a blanket on the grass
a dragon joins the picnic
with a paper cast

the barbed wire carries a bird
with the whips of curiosity
the taste of mint and Sunday's smell
a struggle with verbosity

a note cannot be made you see
until the cat has gone to church
but faded gloves and gardening
only serve to disturb

peter likes his hair done up
he doesn't care for pines
and when the message is received
the cat returns and whines

the tongue of flavored pineapples
is not of well bred taste
the journey to the wooden arch
is horrendous and done with haste

taste and journey go hand in hand
in bowls of purple flowers
then tones are harsh and music loud
the dragon has the power

green tea sits in a hot blue mug
while hands grasp at the breeze
a jar is mentioned in passing
and the currency becomes cheese

confessions are softly spoken
across pillows by broken voices
love admitted and promises made
this is how we made our choices