Mercury On The Teacups
Kettle fades to a copper purr while cards lie still
and mirrors grin with someone I half-recall
and half erase,I drain the last bright vicious inch and let the metal settle in,
ten shillings six pence ringing silent in the space,Somewhere far from ticking clocks a road begins to bend and break
beneath my feet,And every silver drop I swallowed learns to
speak my name in triplets, whispering,Walk, fall, repeat.