Brittany Flowers

The fingers that dropped the pencil
echoing across the desk
that caught the release
Fold quaintly beneath a tired cheek.
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Les yeux.

Captivate. Intrigue. Enlighten.
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What is that that sparks through one's mind?
An instant of thought unaided by rule
Of that is a creation by distraction of an abstract
Or merely the visage of a simple reality.
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And so you speak
Words flow like music
Of your lips
That sip from the edge
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Change floats on a current
Like a sailboat on a stream
And I dream
As a feather frees itself
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Caress the ivories so delicately
The ebonies interrupt.
Fingers bond to the keys that let them glide so smoothly ascending a chromatic
The language blotted across parchment is the sanity that breathes emotion
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Never liked the country much
Until moving to a place
With pines and wild berries
Facing the window
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Yellow lines and speed limit signs
Rounding a curve
With both hands on the wheel
As if the pistons firing
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Contemplating
Behind the wheel
Is where I contemplate
Best
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What’s in reality?

Truth is that which is real, which is inherent, which is belief.
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