April 15 – not the teller but the tale

not the teller
but the tale

i always remember
the tearing sound
a poem makes
or the rustling of a story’s feathers
before i recall the writer

before the singer, the lilt of voice
that hides my breath behind my teeth

and my brain must work
a series of algorithms
to comprehend why my eyes water
at the use of cobalt and orange so rich
while the artist who thought to pair the two
has cleanly slipped my skin