To be is breath
is depth wind cilia dance

The wet concrete street that shows
where the storm once danced last

Technicolor oil slick streak
breaks black asphalt monotony

Like the swirl of the milk and sugar
in the otherwise black coffee

* **

I'm reminded that rest, the real kind
is both solitary and shared

And when you can't sleep, we can't sleep
a shared insomnia from a shared dream

memories of cobalt ennui
plague the spaces between twenty fingers
twenty toes

with gold dipped intentions and egg-shelled breath
the plague of fallen petals of effervescent rose