Color Theory
In cords of white heat birds fold, wither to water like bits of stray paper. A gesture worn thin as a sequence of poses, the tide’s slow pull, tracks of waves in the lake— I sprinkle bread from the pier & watch the gulls dive; their mouths hinging open pops of pink against blue lake / white sky. Color theory broken down to the damp loaf I scatter between fists; treasure of gray gulls, their star-shaped mouths the beloved, beveled water: kissed & kissed.