juxtaposed: mornings

I used to write poetry. Sometimes I still do. I stopped publishing it, but then I remembered sometimes expression supersedes coherence, as such. To that end, here’s a recent work:

 

one morning

waking up, having maybe never fallen asleep

wandering through valleys of sensation and visions of confusion

held, safe, touched, known,

looking into eyes, losing track of I

in we

in love

in lost-track-of-time, but found-so-much-else

 

one morning

a night that never paused

just lagged

and bent

and breezed in storms of clouds and heads and hearts

now rowing on determined path to remember

reaching out  with left-overs, with dregs, with vapors for this hand-breath

fighting the urge to analyze non-existent lying eyes

fighting to believe promises never made, hopes never related, dreams that cannot find their place

 

 

“I don’t need answers, I just need some peace. I just need someone who can help me get some sleep.”
-Ben Rector, When A Heart Breaks

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