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One Morning You

May 9, 2013


I’m feeling quiet and I’m feeling damned.

When you woke the light was on you and the shadows

were still.

Now I’m the one that’s asleep and I’m stuttering

through dreams. What are words?


In tea my dreams all fell, violent me

the sugar-stirring nitwit.

From birth by silver spoon a life spent tumbling

all jumbled together and the first

sear of heat

these molecular crystalline deaths, I digress.


You woke in the light you cursed

the muttering darkness and the stuttering

in my sleep.


“Morning you.”

Understatement. Picture me

balking or blanching, whatever it is we do

these days.


Picture me in Ophelia’s dress

and steep rue in my tea. Lord knows

I like it bitter.


Comments and constructive criticism always welcome. 

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