My mitochondria
has left strict
instructions that
I am to persevere

Pretty shimmer blues
your sensual current
and teasing light
dance across a hypnotic
sea of streaming circles
putting me under
and over and under
again

When proofreading
the print upon the
milky white pages
of my story,
you appear often,
circled in red

I borrowed your dread
though it is not mine
it accompanies my every move
I want to give it back, get rid of it
but it penetrated my skin
occupied my soul
I borrowed your dread
part of me now
a scar I've made room for
a squatter in my home

I feel them like webs filled with pulp, desire, racing to find the finish line

Casually you rise
take up residence
in my evening space
Casting light
to intoxicating depths
Soaring, I swim
in your sea of rain
Drenched, I hide
beneath your shine
Exposed,
rolling in your
trenches, I've memorized
every groove of your pale face

Slowly, I'm spinning
beneath the skies,
in search of us

Lost in you Imbrium,
look down into my window
I will be there every night...
waiting....

I can crawl down
deep, deep as if my spine tunnels
into the ground, meek, meek
a silent crouch below
my speech, where
I cannot be found
disappear into the dark pit of my gut
where disgust gets digested, loneliness absorbed
then, when I so choose to,
yet again, emerge whole,
sound

SO,
don't you worry about
little old me
and my poetry,
we'll be just
fine

I am only a draft
I am not meant to feel this cold
I am not black
I am not white
I am made of my colorful mistakes and typos
I am sorry you feel the need
to delete me and start over