The Pauper's Daily Recount

Fresh leaves, dampened in lathers of yellow
Sit wrapped in a speckled sea
As hot layers of pink settle asleep
in dreamy droves
On a clear bed of white

The fragrance fills the air
so clean, so bright, so tantalizing
He licks his lips in gleeful anticipation
Of a bite into that gorgeous creation

It travels, carefree
No eyes to see
No nerves to feel
But just a singular aim

And he raises it to his lips,
they part,
and they reveal clipped, white teeth
with little rounds of shine dotting the individual pillars

And down they go,
dancing
parting ways
each cell traveling down in a sea of darkness
into tomorrow

I sit by the side, and watch.