A cut cloth of breeze scrubbing against me,
Rain no longer clinging a cold hug and the
Drawn-out reflections of Sun hitting windows
Like rays seeping through the cracks of my
Precious compulsions until the breaking comes.
I can’t cry for this or the damp evaporation.
I rest my head in summer shower now cold,
In home and alone and mourning the coolness
That once was my nighttime breath.
The eyes, these eyes, mine—it’s so easy to
See them as distant the way they gaze—
Rest in worn down bags, gifts my mother
And father left for me, their masks a forever-smile,
Staring out into booming dullness of darkness,
A welcome-mat of enclosed-prison eyelids
Sweating silent echoes of stress. The trouble rumbles
Within me, a haze of widening, scattered pieces
Like the food crumbs and bottle caps left unwhole
Around the book towers along my bedside.
Caffeine is sustenance beyond internal control,
A legally abusive drug set to numb all the
Helpless knowing of emotions needing time for quiet
In a lifetime of deadlines, a clock forever looping.
In a glimpse of starlight, a bitter spatter of consciousness,
Myself aware of humid air spreading through my backhand,
Finger lines of trails fading out one-to-the-other
As summer weaves a leftover scent, a dark fading out
Like the gloom of streetlights along the path from my window.
The lenient flickers of sparks embed into ground.
My well-being grateful to be by its side now,
Awaiting the morning Sun to gleam brighter than before.