Midnight desires that drift pass sleep,
Hopefully honed in dreams I can keep
Not to be lost with tomorrow’s sun
More than poetry, more than strokes
On an illuminated screen;
Searching for illumination, a light
Of what this may mean.
Even when torn and plagued by splits.
Feelings may move and these stories
All in the linning of gold minds.
Mime like boxes searching for what
They contain. Blurred vision not blind,
And windows lead outside to pursuits
Of childlike freedom, traffic yet still
Playing in the middle of streets flooded
By rains that slowly wash away sincerity.
But suddenly this too was raised in
A verse only a conversation away,
One argument from mending broken
Hearts. One dollar short
Of rich similes; poured out
These frame the letters hanging from
My walls, drifting back to safety.