Inspecting the lines on his palm
his eyes follow
tea droplets sliding down,
trails mixed,
lost in his mind
the beginnings of a stain.

He swirls the tea, spilling, staining
the counter, missing his palm
as he submerges, now his mind
loops, following
his thoughts mixing
with memories, pulling him down

into a valley. He crouches down
trying not to let grass stain
his clothing, or mix
shoelaces with grime. His palms
catch him as he trips, his body following
the sand dunes created when his mind

remembers conquering the sandbox. Not minding
the heat or the downward
sink of each step, his eyes follow
his raised fist stained
with Crayola, the heat causing his palms
to leak a mixture

of markers and sweat. He mixes
mud patties, trying to mind
the bugs seeking a palm
to crawl along. Bending down,
the metal smell of the slide structure stains
his hands while he follows

the set of stairs, followed
by yellow shine mixed
with handprints staining
the curve and mindless
bugs creep down
the metal, unaware of his palm.

His mind snaps, a phone vibrating in his palm,
friends, asking to head downtown,
and he can’t seem to wipe away his smile.