Steeping in you,
pungent leaves
soaking to soft
in the warm wet brew
that melts out of us
when we mix,
I take you in
watch, feel myself change
you change
slowly
and not slowly,
softer, softer,
crusts dissolving,
dances within dances.
The intricacy pleases me,
intrigues me.
We are only so slightly
beginning.
Good to take time to breathe open
the heavy rosewood doors
that lie in the dark
under years of silt,
down in the watery depths
where light is long forgotten
and fish have no eyes.
So much unknown and unknowable,
but this I know for sure:
you will be as surprised as me
to see where this path is taking you
me
us.
Is there anything better
than this trembling place of not knowing,
waiting expectant
to see what brew this will become,
sitting quietly
and not so quietly
day after day
on the shelf of the south window,
welcoming the hot
hot sun?
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