the desire to create is only sated by late nights writing
finding keys on the other side of locked doors
a way found around
*** & discrepancies
laying naked on the bedroom floor
falling apart up until the point you're put together

inspiration comes late
after the starting indicated on the invitation
after the guests have come and gone
lengthening faces taking the wine and smiles with them
after you fall to the ground to stare at the undersides of things
and take a shower to wash the thoughts off your skin
inspiration comes
stumbling in
like a drunk lover long forgotten
their features still still unsure
blurred even in person

you both know that you knew what to say a moment before but silence swallows the knowing and you're left open under the sky crying and making each moment as it is upon you

the sun still rises
over every darkness

be not startled when it looks other than you remember it to be