Monday Morning Blurtout / 365 for 2012: (44-50) Estimated Arrivals, Definite Departures

there is nothing to prompt this note. it is half past ten and yet it feels like the hour hasn’t moved past three AM. only the fan moves in the living room, whirring steadily. while i listen to a hipster playlist made for mornings like this by a stranger somewhere i’d like to meet someday. there are options to get up and eat or clean up the room or — just get the fuck up. but i’m still in bed, stuck.

somebody, please remind me how do i pick up myself from this. or, no, yeah, leave me alone.

—————-

another strange dream

i would like to revisit,

lost under the sheets.

 –   

under the blanket

there is a body missing,

another concealed.

 –   

under the pillow

fingers search for another,

that cannot be there.

 –

the bed, a landscape

of plains, crevices, cliffs: vast.

 we travel this way.

 –

there’s a map somewhere,

find yourself searching for years

when you go to sleep.

 –   

the return ticket,

the cost of a memory,

brings you back: awake.

 –

strange dream, you again,

always there. where will you be?

gone in the morning.

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