I spilled a glass of water
across my favorite tablecloth
and watched as first a river
and then little water beads
seeped into crevices
stroked each strand
metamorphosed into wet cloth
or stabilized on surfaces
twisting this way and that
around angles of cloth
patterns of life retreating
across a floral turquoise landscape
I wonder how it is to wear
a slightly faded pink skirt
or to be water strewn
carelessly across some
invented cartography