In the twilight of morning,
when your absence stirs,
when I’m lost in reverie,
everything is not alright.
In the arrest of silence,
when the lone wind blows,
when I shade my mind,
I’m not alright.
I want to be lost again,
I want to be addicted again
to the ambivalencies of yesterday…
I want to be verbatim again,
I want to be confused again
because of twilight mire.
In the storm of what was
we had direction
we had purpose
to find dry land and common ground.
In the storm of what could be
we’ll have a sense,
we’ll have a goal,
to find the sunshine and fresh air...
In the moment of pensive,
when the quiet falls,
when the stars come out,
watch me not rise,
watch me fall,
I’m not steady at all…
In the storm of what I am,
where I am shaken,
I need to be taken,
and swallowed…
In the storm of what you are,
in the centre eye,
I need my sky to be broken,
and swallowed…
(188 Words)
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