The mayhem of morning
with its black black shoes
and white white shirts
and extra shot this
and three sugars that
and freshly applied
hairspray- ultra hold
and please move further
down the carriage to
make room for other
passengers, thankyou
really just
stresses
me out so
much that i
want to
commute all
the way
home again,
open the door,
get
inside my
warm bed
and
listen
to
prince.
Morning
5:45 again
poetrycrisp air penetrates my synthetic
clothing allowing out sweat but
also keeping the moonlight from
slowly warming these early risen
bones
sun rise if you will
poetrynight comes as my pillow
envelopes my naked head
beckoning me to dreams
i fear will be forgotten on
waking hours before the sun
rise.
Quarter-life moments
poetrylaying in the half-light
of Sunlight’s struggles
to penetrate fabric
considering the options
stay
go
sit
lay
turn
roll
sleep
wake
making no decisions
only processing
considering no ends
only meaning
Lazy Sunday Mornings
poetryA tenuous magic
exists this morning,
as we lay in bed
daring not to speak,
move, or even hardly breathe,
lest the spell be dispelled
at the slightest stirring.