tea tree leaves in a room of mirrors
and convection air waves rising from heart-throb heated floors
I am spinning propeller
trembling finger tips stretched touching outer boundary limits,
wind-swift, wing-span wide
thin razor kisses when skin and leaf collide
bleeding crystalline molasses
tree sap tendrils
roots piercing through silver soil
the air is cold
it bites crisp
and soothe swims through the ravines
left by those fluttering five-finger scratches