Half asleep feet shuffle in aimlessly;
Water fills the celestial coffeepot.
Chocolate brown grounds by a spoon are allot.
A spoonful spills to the floor! This marks its tragedy.
Another, another, so painfully,
This tragedy would make any distraught.
How can sleep be torn from eyes so bloodshot
Without the black elixir so holy?

The sleepy feet walk through the garage door,
Each brooms' handle is long like cold harpoons.
It sweeps up the wasted dreams on the floor.
"I measured out my life in coffee spoons."1
The tedious toil begins once more,
And so go the morning coffee mistunes.


1 - From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot

O Viviane, waters billow below,
Scour my stone heart, to cut a cleft of you.
Coarse time grate, frothed roars the crag pool bruise.
There my gold name was your treasure to throw.
Now your madness is the sole love I know.
Summer sun’s blaze, gleaming corkscrews freed truths;
My willow’s fingers brushed your cobalt hues,
So secret reeds in our sparkling lake grow.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
A search for your haunting shadow’s colour;
I chase it like my hopes, back to this hurt,
And with quaking limbs, hoarse cries fill the sky:
“Lord, I beg you, help me to uncover
The magician who left me with this curse.”

𝘖 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘫𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩
𝘐𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴.
𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴’ 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥,
𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸.
𝘉𝘢𝘳’𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘐𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘸.
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘌𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.
𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦
𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.

Viviane, ephemeral as the day.
𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦.
I’d play for you even without an ace.
𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺.
Cheat, and I’ll honour you, in every game.  
𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦.
Lie, and I’ll believe you, in every case.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴?
Or has our portrait dried in shades of hurt?  
𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦.
I wonder if we’ll ever discover  
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.

Who gave you that name, Cinderella? Grey
Like the faded ashes they make you clean.
Strict as the hour-glass, they haven’t seen you gleam.
Granular vision curtails them to day.
Cursed curfew; trickling sands serve time’s keen gain.  
Chandeliers and red wine, the ball’s a dream.
Midnight’s starlight in your slippers, you flee.
Shatter all the glass; then, with me, remain.
Sharp as its edges, coarse time vanishes,
Like the bacchant’s memory, your form’s bare.
Soft feet brushed by sands, lips seal promises.
Exiled, like your gown, we don’t belong there.
See through me, Cinderella, take my hand.
Your name’s gold-dust; I’ll sign it in the sand.

On a ridge by the ocean, the dragon respires.
Hide rugged as the coastline, against him the eons crash like waves.
Legend enchants the seabreeze, an inbreath to a shimmering trance.
Before the incandescent glow sparks like innocence into a fire.
The crystal-eyed call this Hollywood.
I discovered you there, costumed in flames, as the discharged smoke became your disguise.
Together, we performed as if we were in the dark.
Scorching exhales fogged your glasses and stifled my voice.
They say, “When you are mad, you see nothing”.  

All saints watched us in the dark this time.
Camera lenses covered your eyes and captured the revellers.
Tides ****** my mind and erased the crime.
Until they told me that I was on fire.
Misted glasses repelled your kaleidoscopic sublime.
So, from the stake, I rasped for nothing more than an ashen grey.

Orbs burning, in smoke's efflux, blindness grew.
My gilded urn haunted you, gold’s sharp sting.
Fairy-dust spells your name, always sparkling.
Fractured glass and lapsed cinders don’t brand you.
Only your frame in my pillows would do.
Like rogues caught in opulence, we're running.
They say, “When you are mad you see nothing.”
But madness is what you chose to see through.
And you saw blue in eyes I thought were grey
With iridescence glowing from your face.
You tasted darker than the fruits I stole.
And I’m the secret that you won’t betray,
Fused to your body by slumber’s light lace.
See through me, as my words sound in your bones.