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