A blue print:
Layers
Ever so slightly
off-shift.
A harmony composed of
two pitches
off by
semi-cents.
A space
A view
A cup of tea:
Steam lifting.
The morning birds singing:
Holding council
Atop sky-reaching, naked
branches.
The right space.
The right tea.
The right song.
The wrong time.
A Carbon Copy memory
Of that space
That exists so
Cozily.
Incarnate:
As that flat cent
That dimmed hue
That bumped sheet
Of translucent
Aberrant
Carbon paper