I lie with eyes
Stinging with a lack of
Sleep, open with a
Burning gaze boring a hole
In my ceiling.

I had woken from a dream
Of a man with the skin tone
Of my morning coffee, and
A stare that stripped
My body from my
Quivering soul.

-------------------

Moments of slipping
Out of class to take
A peek at the dense
Fog rolling in.
Hovering above
The skin of our
Heads like a smoky
Halo of water
Particles.

The thick, grey air
Has probably never
Seen such a
Beautifully dead
City.

-------------------

With rooms shrounded in
Undertones of dull grey, what
Can I do but conceal my
Own color so that the walls
Don't steal it away?

I wish that this
Tension underneath
My skin could just
Seep out of my
Pores and alleviate
My soul from its
Unbearable pressure.
Let it trickle
Down and evaporate
Into the warm,
Sunny air.

Just a wind that blows
On a fair summer's day.
No rhyme or reason
To my lovely, restless way.

Gentle sky filled with blue
Got my head stuck in a cloud.
But when the sky loses her light
And the dusk turns into night
Is when I'll finally speak
Aloud.

And I'll wonder,
"When will it be
'Til the silence
Finally sets me free?"
And I'll wonder,
"When will it end -
The bittersweet memories
That only time can mend?"

'Cause time passed
Me by, instead.
Like the birds flying
Over my head.

Another day passed by.
Man, the air's sure getting warm,
So I'll wait by my window
For the oncoming storm.

That's when the clouds roll in -
A dusky grey that calms my soul.
And when the rain stars coming down
From the sky's cumulus crown
Is when I'll finally feel whole.

Let me dream
In a bed of ground ivy
And not be afraid of
The bugs scurrying
Through the earth.

Let me speak
In effervescence
So that I may believe
In the truths I tell
Myself.

And let these truths
Be sweet and firm
In their nature
Rather than weigh
Me down and wrap
Me in barbed wire.

Let my spirit be free
Of past transgressions.
Uproot my feet
So I may follow
The wind.

She checks her wristwatch
Counterclockwise
Against her former expectations
Of the metal
Around her wrist
She checks her digital clock
The one on the stove
That flashes
Flash, flash, flash, flash
Like a silent metronome
When the power goes out
And comes back on
12:31
12:30
12:29
Calm
She is still calm
Breathing
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale
Steady
Like the bobbing of a buoy, bouncing
Brazenly in open sea
You see
She sees
That time can be trickery
That conceptual thoughts
Provoke mystery
Illusions and delusions
Conclusions and intrusions
Seclusion
She has many things
About which
To think

The wind spoke to me last night.
He knocked on my window
and said—“let me love you,
Let me carry you to bed,
Lay you down, and caress you.”

He wrapped himself around my warm body,
Whispered in my ear the lyrics to
Old love songs and poetry.
Chills rushed down my spine and to my toes.
Alas, I felt it—the breeze, the peace,
The love he gave me.

You're not a Golden Boy,
And you never were meant to be.
You are a force of desperation,
Seeking salvation.
You live to be free.
That is the reason why
You may forever be bound
To the saviors of the Underground.

You were a bit of a child.
The world was having its way with you.
You tried to make a declaration,
A revelation,
Some celebration.
You tried some chemical shock.
As a dried leaf floats downstream,
It is steryl as an early angel.

You're just a Rolling Roy,
The drifting dust on a beam of sunlight.
You suffer from separation,
By invitation,
And so many things to see.
It is no wonder why
Your golden boy will not be found,
Except by those of the Underground.