the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Casual 7 a.m.

Crack the sky open when nothing is left
And let the morning come in over easy.
Tensile strings in my back tug tightly
So that sails stretch out to dawn,
Agape and gulping air and grasping.
Fingers play with cloudy strands of hair
And cotton gets caught in my throat.
A light cough wrestles the silence
That nestles itself in the room,
Four walls went down so casually,
A Friday never too soon.

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