I stare right through the glass
Right through it’s layers of transparence and it’s nuance of azure
Lips ever so plump, filled to the brim with senseless idioms
A glass so full it’s contents drip over it’s edge
Pathetically one might say
Brave another may reply
The faucet’s incessantly trickling, chunks of rust flowing through its current
Embraced so sweetly in an earnestness only summer can breed
Lips that have whispered devotion in a quiet prayer
To ears that never did more than relish
In the honey poured by my solstitial diction
Lips who’s cardinal attire is long gone
Fluttering to another’s beat that I’ve grown deafened to
They now lay bare in the blankness of winter
Split from the frigid adjourn
Amidst precipices that never seem to replenish
Lips that still rouse at dawn echoing the ghost of a phrase
Pondering where you’ve gone
Apprehensive of the day the drip will cease

Noee Spiegel  is a young author from Montreal Canada. Her first language is English and she is currently majoring in poetry.