| Do
you sleep easily at night? When stars rest blinking behind
a blanket of clouds, like your head, your hair, drifting across
your pillow, spilling across the sheets. These patterns,
of which we all dream. |
Do
you dream of yourself? Those days when your focus on
things was so concise that, like a razor, you could cut to the
core of all that passion and extract, hold in your hand, even,
things that others only imagined to exist. |
| Did
you discover something, somewhere, in all of your searching,
that frightened you? |
Here
the bones remain, all heavy with doubt and fear, scored by a
life of cowardice and hesitations. |
|