I keep trying to read the tea leaves greening
the lukewarm belly of the mug—
instead I keep ingesting them.
I think I see a pattern or a pattern thinks it sees
me, doglike dragon slipping fish down its throat
or moon-eyed sailor with albatross sails,
I swallow & the world floats a moment
lighter under my skin. The beloved
will hide knowledge he should share.
Or a dire warning: I am on the correct path.
Jellyrope fastens the bloated leaves as
they swim to the surface, splaying
themselves for public view like a new tattoo.
O mustard-yellow vessel I’ve become,
dappled robin’s egg, circular globe:
predict the outcome of this improbable existence.