Date Published: October 14, 2025
Time Published: 7:30 AM
Category: Poetry
Subject: Transformation and renewal.
She nods toward the cup in the sink—
a rim of coffee clinging to porcelain.
“Isn’t it strange?” she whispers,
“how even what lingers learns to loosen?”
The faucet begins its steady stream,
pulling darkness into motion.
What was once sharp on the tongue
thins, blurs, then gentles.
And I almost laugh, watching her lean
against the counter, casual prophet.
The water carries bitterness outward,
its weight dissolving to a paler shade.
The cup waits, as if it's listening.
I meet its gaze in the swirl,
a surface trembling,
darkness letting go of itself.
The light slants across the kitchen,
not gold but something softer—
a quiet glow breaking into bubbles,
small suns lifting their fragile voices.
Still, the cup remains,
its outline unaltered, the residue gone.
In its hollow shape, I see a hint of myself—
what might remain after the letting go.
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