too bitter
to ignore
the purr it
releases finding
purchase on
the porcelain
glaze cobalt
perfection
devoid of
the grit and
fingerprints
one might expect
on an everyday
object made
of clay intricately
painted by a
tired-eyed woman
in a dusty
crowded room
so far away
I cannot begin
to imagine
the language
she speaks
in her dreams.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
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