An oddly mild month January has been,
warm like the head of a newborn child,
the days brim with potential,
flowing, yet tensile.
If one was so inclined
to break the laminar flow,
to seep into the brine,
the salty novelty
of new days and due dates and a fresh gaze,
they may find it to overflow.
Potential calcifies when its spilled.
Collecting over February, March, and April,
crusting through May, June, and July,
chipping at it from August, September, and October,
casting your tongue on it through November and December,
just to remember,
how mild it was in January.