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Dec 2016
If insomnia were a bicycle, I’d ride it
As I watch my yawn open eye
Wide awake I’d smell the roses
trace their spikes and wear their lipstick
And pardon me if dreamers can’t smell it
A fever akin to a violin’s soundest
Cutting right through 4AM
with a blade of flicker and undestined dim
I’d ride past the bus stop I walk to everyday
Hang my black coat and never claim it again
Ride past the point where I’d make it to work on time
But my boss to never see my face again
And if the hour hand were any slower
I swear…

I’d finally meet you
And when I do finally see you
our glass cages will then shatter

Out of the wreckage, a new kind of disaster

A happy one
but I’d have to warn you

I don’t have time for greeting cards
There are no lungs in paper
Life is
a box of limbs
And that,
I would open
And you bet!
That, I’d claim
If insomnia were a bicycle, I’d ride it
Straight into the sunset, I’d watch the sunrise
Sigh...
Vivian Alvarado
Written by
Vivian Alvarado  30/Scottsdale
(30/Scottsdale)   
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