Wednesday, October 13, 2010



I try to find inside my mind that place of solace
Not happiness, nor contentment
Not the sweet floral breeze of pleasure's memories
Not hot thick nights wandering senseless, grasping despair
Not the woman's curves soft warm pupal cadenced wafting
me back to sleep, back to nonessence, back to a dreamer's

Little nits and wasps enjoining against my focus
Bitter nips and wasted fortnights, no blame, nothing to be seen
I curl into glowing midnight, find yoga grace, slip-slide between
synaptic windows
No one looks out
No one looks in

April 23, 2010

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