Friday, April 8, 2011

nocturnal wonderings leave me out aloud

getting lost in the real world. list slam pavements and some morning i wake up and i'm not sure which version of myself i left in dreaming.

sliding into place like wooden nails; the tightest fit is the one that last the longest. i deep breathe through nocturnal wonderings and wake up still unsure if i've answered the right question.

every gulf is filled with water. between us is an amassing current. i sail small paper boats inscribed with messages across it while you sleep. hoping you can catch a glimpse of me on you're eyelids as you wake.