I
splashed
some
colores
from
a tumbler

and
smeared
the drab
world
with
emotions


I
charted
on a
dish
of jelly
the jutting
cheekbones
of the
ocean.

Upon
the scales
of tin
salmon


I
read
the calls
of lips
yet
mute.


And
you,
could
you
have
played
a nocturne
with
just
a drainpipe
for a flute?