Shuffling bags fold
Underneath the vents
That breathe red fire
And wispy blue flames.
Nimble fingers cradle
Keys that click while
Churning slow thoughts
Akin to unsettled light.
The warmth of blood
Running through veins
With tainted violet clouds
Fickle panes of sunlight
Breaching through the
Opened gray curtains.
Tangled hair falls like
Silken sheets of tossed
Over cloth among dark
Brewed coffee stirring.
The steam releases
Warmth into the wind
As I write into silent
Hours at a rhythm.
. . .
My curious heart stands
Still as I listen to the
Purring of a midnight cat.
And as I do, my lips curl
Upwards into a smile.