another daydream

another daydream

Thursday, December 31, 2020




When comfort divorces you,

whether or not 
this was warranted, 
whether or not 
you assumed its existence 
had a guarantee

––like those plates 
advertised not to break––
whether or not you saw this coming,
you want to go back 
to normal that’s torn asunder.


It may be harsh to meet 

a surface of concreteness

whether or not 
you call it a ‘new normal’
to escape the guesswork
of hazardous life.

Whether or not 
you cried, unsteady 
as a toddler trying 
to walk, 

this is freefall; 

you launch into the dark

––like a moth, not 
particularly lovely,
taking on the night shift 

of pollination 
as each nocturnal jasmine 
opens, opens––
whether or not
you can sleep,
beauty is consuming 
the darkness. 



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