mused with mary

I am a morning full of thoughts

and slow, perfect sips of coffee

I am the protagonist of a torn, soft cover novel

I am the curve that makes a graph infinite

I am red lipstick carefully, meticulously applied

I am a reddish smeared napkin placed haphazardly in the garbage

I am the silence in a room full of noise

I am the sober words of a heavy conversation at midnight

I am not the crash of the wave,

but I am the slow, steady, and always constant pull back into a chaotic sea

Happy Friday guys, a poem written by yours truly