I lost myself counting the drips on the glass.
My reflection past the reflection.
Long, meandering trails pooling and crossing
colliding
I wasn't sure what to make of it
with the splinters forks and cascades
a mural of wet chaos and gray.
A small series of interruptions, flow, spatter, and pause?
How much
little
control do I have over the trail
collision
spatter
roll
dissolve
stretched and flecked all over the surface.
Fate
Destiny
Chance
Cruelty.
We're going to go with cruelty
just because its today
and you're you.
The ring makes sense.
The warm caramel sway in the mug is order
but order is diminishing with each swig
you can't stay safe
molded to your container forever.
You will deplete, you will cool, you will disappear
But in the madness
you're anonymous, forever, and a part of some greater mischief
some grand misfortune
once the dischord of another God enters.
That's why I put my hand through the window.
I wanted to watch the cascade-flow of shards and brittle
the ballad of the broken,
so the history of the haphazard would be erased.
There is semblence
there is serenity
there is sanity
in that odd living chain.
Your world fits in one metaphor until the greater catastrophe makes you unfortunately aware of your ever-more iminent destruction.
That's poetry.
When I ordered prose.