not sleeping anymore

for you (revisited)

tonight’s crescent moon
only frames a brighter night
like me, without you

posted by d @ 11:35 PM 0 comments

I've made my bed—

(3 times, with clean sheets)

in the morning,
when the yellows make sun of the sky,
I’ll twist my feet beneath the covers, convinced
I can sleep better—
now that you’re gone.

(but the insides will seem so much colder)

in the afternoon,
when the clouds make stripes of the sky,
I’ll get back in and think about all the things
I can devote my time to—
now that you’re gone.

(but the hours will seem so much longer)

in the evening,
when the dark makes dots of the sky,
I’ll stay on top and reach for what’s closest,
I can do what I want—
now that you’re gone.

(but the wants will seem so much farther)

posted by d @ 1:54 PM 1 comments

tonight

i'll play the first 3 notes of various songs that i'm pretending (but not trying at all) to learn. then i'll turn my guitar upside down so its neck is by my knee and its base beneath my propped chin- and i'll pretend it's a violin.
i'm separate.
like the missing bow. so i'll write about it, without much sense. between typings, i'll pause and think sentences mixed with very important things and not at all important things. like, is my memory as deceitful/less deceitful/more deceitful than the truth itself and, i forgot my toothbrush in the car.
and yet, they will be related.
then, i'll sing out of tune because i'm alone. i'll try to figure out how today moved this far past yesterday and this far from tomorrow. i'll think about our time. how it circles and sweats and owns the floor with its last dance. and how i've taken off my shoes even though i'm still afraid of being stepped on, but how i really may have been better off leaving just one behind.

posted by d @ 11:46 PM 0 comments