i am
waking with a hazy blanket
hanging heavily translucent
atop my aching head
and life is a thin filament that hangs
helplessly trying to hold my weight.
but somewhere farther off,
in the curling warmth of wet tea leaves,
i am recreated
flooding life in every inch of a sleepless body

peering out this frosted winter window,
i see all my heartache buried in an early november snow
that nobody expected to stick

the clarity of the world becomes
tangible reality
and i step outside of ailing deluison
into myself to find
that i want you more than i did before.