Pressed onto these sheets, outlining my breath
In, out, in, out—each is accounted for.
I've drawn these walls plenty times over
I've sat for hours to sink into myself
I've swallowed melodies, delicacies and crack
Oozing mulberry, prune and cherry
Collapsing at the thought of it gone.
How do you feel when there is nothing to?
How do you retreat only to return again?
I am a puzzle who no one dares to sort.

And at night I plunge myself
Downstream into a river of foam
Set adrift to visions of grandiose places
Flaring fluorescence and friendly faces
Taking the time to tour towering cities
Where the rumors speak of golden tables
Gatherings for the dapper and pristine
I see myself indulged in flattery
A puzzle sorted exact.
And having drawn these paths
I'm jolted back upstream
Feeling the weight again.
Mulberry, prune and cherry