Sometimes, I agree.
Sometimes I feel like a movie projector,
like another reel day has passed through me,
mechanically gobbled,
instant
by
instant
until sleep comes,
washing my brain with electric waves,
drowning out the tick tick tick tick
of conscious order with natural rhythm,
the slow pattern of sleeping baby breath
turning down the volume of everything
leaving only what I choose to clutch.
And even the sleep is an instant
eternal until I make sense of it
for the sake of the story I am.
Somewhere, I am forever putting the period at the end of this sentence.
Somewhere, I am forever holding you.
No comments:
Post a Comment