Wednesday, October 14, 2009

The Center of Everything


This is my fall.

This is my rain.
These are my shoes.
Scented weather.
Choose.


Don't ever mouth the words,
not even in the bucket of night. Not even
under the hum of a pulse.

Flight.

Tumbleweed secrets we never shared, (shh…)
Warm voice wool soothes. You, Autumn calm. True.
I'm not to blame
for your existence. You stare. It sticks.
The center of everything.

Surge.

Stay still. I'm hanging on by a thread. The nest of sanity redefined.

Trapped in the bittersweet waiting space of incremental cotton naps
between dusk, comfort and dawn. The seasons change.
Six months of insomnia masquerading as sleep. Dreams flitter.

Raw.

This is my fall.
This is my tumble.
These are my shoes.
Choose.

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