My eyes seek moments of rising.
Smooth turmoil after the concave, when all is
It is milk on a snare drum beat-
Lingering. Percussive in space
Snow covering. Cream splashed in to an ochre bowl
Reminiscent of other acts
too private to name.
Joyful release, observed. Partaken.
Every act the very same yet unique
As quivers become sighs become sussurations.