Turmeric

The closet light
Is painting 
A rectangle of carpet
Turmeric.

The air is arctic
But to no avail,
The rain-drenched wilds,
The mudslides.

You swore
You'd never,
Yet the seventh veil
Is puddled on 
The yellow square.

I breathe
Your breath,
Fermented
Cider.
I've lost
My balance,
Tumbled from 
The spicy floor.

A sigh.
The world.

- 5/21/25

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