NaPoWriMo Day 12

 day 12 small thing

to get down to the nub of things

conversation wears away

the dog worries at his foot

the rose distills its essence

I boil metaphor in a pan

the syrup left is so sweet

there's just enough

to put onto your fingertip to taste

so concentrated,

stars explode

there is a photograph

of the entire galaxy

it lives in a file somewhere

compressed to png

a dot in the memory,

wow to the trillionth degree