I awoke one day
To the soft knock at my door
Of a deep darkening fog
Where there wasn’t before.

I awoke one day
To the soft knock at my door
Of a deep darkening fog
Where there wasn’t before.
Now her hand lifts, beckoning
Me to step back into myself
And I tell her I will, but only if
She promises to stop watching
We weave connections in human webs –
An invisible tangle of paths entwined,
As our fingers leave trails of human threads
Woven into a memoir of time.
I think my skull would rattle if you shook it –
filled with an assortment of past things.
I’ll pluck and keep them as trinkets,
souvenirs, mementos of has been.
I fear losing thoughts, and days,
so I pocket reminders of each place I go
(in heart, in mind, in body, in soul).
I awoke with my head submerged in water,
ears blocked, the world locked out of my perception.
There’s a knock on a window somewhere but I can’t tell which one
this muffled echo is coming from – a pathetic attempt at a sound.
I’ve lost touch with my senses, like they’re running out of battery,
confused with each other, I can feel sounds but not hear them.
Anything can sound like a voice if you need to hear one –
kitchen white noise – the refrigerator humming,
creaks in the plumbing are less scary if you long for just someone
(anyone?) to hear you (maybe I heard footsteps on a creaky floor).
I shed dead skin in a trail
of diary entires and old poems,
snaking through my life’s path –
the fossils of the human heart,
footprints, preserved in stone.
I guess I simply never knew
That after dusk, an unsuspecting Thursday
Would turn into a hug from someone new,
Or that on such a fortuitous fateful night,
The most unearthly delight would be you.
my cheeks flush easily,
outsides matching my insides,
brimming with feelings of
pink – blissfully enchanted,
rosy and love-filled,
We blink silence back and forth,
Secrets beclouded by our eyes,
A tightrope tension between lips,
Or hearts, together we’re tongue-tied.