Like a curl of vanilla ice cream
coming in fast from the north,
washing over everything you know.
The wall of your mind is now
eggshell or ecru — or greige.
Neutral for pleasantness and
resale value, and also because
you used all your colors
yesterday and 26 days back.
It’s a 28-day cycle, you know.
You’ll be replenished soon.

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I had to break a rule. I said I wouldn’t jump around among different prompt sources during this year’s NaPoWriMo, but I was stopped by the one at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (form is not my strong suit, and I’m feeling tapped as this month draws to a close), so today I used the one at Poetic Asides, which was to write a poem titled _______ Wave. I took it literally because I feel the blank wave coming.