3% —
Nice talking with you today!
2% —
Seems like we had a productive…
1% —
So let’s meet —

Conversations interrupted
plans unfinished
before the
screen —

The clock running
down, just a
bit too —

Chargers lost
messes of
cables

the rush

—charging—

i feel as if
i've taken
out my
dreams
heart
all

to
put
on display

how they glitter!
sparkle in the light

in dusty attic corners

i'll just fill up
the emptiness
with crystal tears
and sleep through the night

it’s a warm and tidy house
sweeping views, friendly neighbors
(more importantly — cheap too)

if only there wasn’t
a ghost on the third floor

to be fair — she’s the quiet sort
no flickering lights, blood on the floor
just the occasional garage door
and a faint rumble (of the dryer?)

her mail arrives regularly,
and packages, so many packages
there’s a corner set aside for it
but the pile grows and grows and grows

there are no signs to keep out
just an unspoken agreement
that the third floor is hers

though….just a peek wouldn’t hurt,
right? a friendly little visitation,
quick hello
goodbye

the signs go up a month later
FOR RENT
the piles of mail grow and grow and grow
more names now

new tenants
moving in

do butterfly wings
rip at the seams?
just paper scraps

if this is something you try,
your failure you cannot deny.

if you let your thoughts fly,
slip out, then — reply

what am I?

A magic trick? A flash of cards,
a sleight of hand, morning to-do lists.

I’ve tried them all. Scribblings on
sticky notes, journals entries, scraps.

A month’s work rolled and
stuffed all into one day.

But I feel featherlight without
the words weighing down my flight.

Another task? I'll just tack it on
— no big deal when I feel so free.

It always hits me late at night, when
I look back on my lists and lists and cry.

You can’t finish a month ahead,
when you’re always a month behind.

But tomorrow — maybe tomorrow,
I’ll try my magic trick again.
  
It’s only a matter of time.