Console

i ride shotgun,

as fingerlets of breeze

squeeze

through the cracked window

tracing summer’s kiss

on my neck and chest

a sunlit introspect

each splash

dancing on the dash

a chromatic interplay

that resonates

like the twirl

of hand-dipped lotus flowers

plucked and set to spin

on the still surface

of love’s waters

.

they burst from the deep well

with an intimate swell

lifting each cast stone

in defiance of gravity

an internal wheel

on the console

a home i carry

this singularity

and i shimmer with the desire

to simply enjoy the scenery

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2018

Art: “On the Road to the Sea” by Bonny B

8 thoughts on “Console

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