I force myself under the water,
Feeling the cold invade my mind,
My skin tightening against the attack,
Shuddering,
But yet,
When I come out the other side,
I feel the hot sun on my skin,
Making all that cold suddenly feel worth it.

The brilliance of a clouded morning
is often overlooked in memory of the sun
I have been twirling these thoughts
between my fingers for far too long
yearning to reach out through broken windows
to immerse my hand in a dense morning fog
not knowing what will find them
and to take this ache in my bones
that tends to follow me home
rinse it under the falling rain
waiting for the sun, waiting for a new day
until morning comes in a quiet dream
and I wring out these bones
and yesterday's clothes
throwing them into laundry baskets
woven from this tired soul
and taking it all out to dry

The best mug in the cabinet
Sits on the middle shelf
Everyone always grabs it
Rarely left to itself
The handle fits perfect
Though increasingly worn
Held in palms to reflect
With liquid so warm

sunset bleeds out the day
depleted
thoughts take charge and toy with me