you know the days have become none less
than dully excrutiating when your instinct
beckons you to dread the sunrise.
that's why i favor the hour
and hours beyond
when the glowing giant of the sky
ducks beneath the mountains
and the ether's inky purple carpet is dotted
in snowflakes. i flicker on
dim fairy lights and fill the space
with lavender air, propping up
my pillows and settling in
for the usual
unfinished math homework-
rewatch tv shows-
read some gay verse book no one's ever heard of-
plink out my nostalgia on kalimba-
measure out tomorrow's to-do's-
pretend i'm not up till quarter to 4-
write just a few more poems
routine. so after the day's done
grinding on, grueling, and i'm done
chasing after it, you'll find me
bathing in lavender air, my features softly shadowed
by a thousand yellow lights, nestled
beneath la lune's crooked smile, clutching
my battered canvas green journal
tight, fostering the swooping calligraphy
of just one more poem.