Can I teleport to tomorrow
instead of sleeping….
sitting here, staring
at a page, wondering,
who built the obstacle…
Hello sun,
hello shade,
hello hand reaching out….
He stands,
looking out the window,
looking at the world,
seeing his world
with the hole ripped in it…
one hand open
to welcome the gray area,
other hand clenched
to represent
the size of my blood pump,
according to third-grade
biology, pulsing….
only a slice,
up the stairs,
hemmed in
by stone walls…
you bloomed,
and now your petals
are melting
toward the mulch…
when I am numb
I crave sensation
your fingers tangling
in my hair, wind…
I could curl up in a hole,
and not come out
for a long time…
I am the dream
you cling to,
the dream you don’t release…
