Wendy E. Braun – This Existence

By: Wendy E. Braun

What thoughts quake so deeply in the mind
that time twists into geometrics
taking shape in the infinite patterns
of my bathroom tiles?
The hexagonal horizon suggests possibilities
while the diagonal plains shift into and out of focus.
But, yet, there is some relief
when the body is beneath the bath
and solid porcelain swells
like an impressionist whose brush swirls
between submerged reflections externalized.
If enlightenment is to come, I suspect
it will drip from my limbs in hints of lavender,
while discarded reveries slide down the drain.