Migration

There is nothing now
but the liquid and mist and
the dark points of reference
their songs carrying a sharper edge
that my eye can see – half
my brain sleeps and is still
in the fuzz of black belonging
oily comfort deep warmth – half
mind like a cage around my heart
which beats with small, scratching
claws around the thin haze of dream
loose as birch bark blue
blue and black

 

Something from your perspective?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s