The gold scripts tell of a new task.

Of zeppelins and curls.

Hair pins and residuals.

Pour once, mix twice, and drink under a cold water fall.

Zero calls.

Hydrogen love.

The case marks make me feel like I don't belong. Your hair caresses my arm as I draw away from everything. Please choose a different course, discipline, hierarchy. While the barber waits unused and unmet, a smile creeps along anyway. Who walks by the window may not look any different as they leave.

Lists for my thirties.

Tear-stained serviettes.

Linking lives meet once and twice in spring.

A tadpole emerges in a pond,

My goggles glow emerald green.