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Meg’s Thoughts:

I want to see a bottle cap and think of its beauty,

Inner threads that weave across the bottles mouth remind me

Of the first time I held an unfamiliar hand;

Fingers intertwined in the Smithsonian.

Vibrant red coating the outside,

Once white laces turned red when tied

Would you dare think about what you’re not told to?

Curiosity driven dreaming creeping into the mundane

I’ll stare at this bottle cap until only love remains

A tangible reminder to the abstract beyond

That there is nothing but this second,

Everything else has yet to come or is already gone.