Face the Sun
I hear a whisper through the door. I see
legs before me like thick or thin
I can’t tell, logs. Not really mine.
I can’t be bothered to move my
torso, but a tan arm empties
three packs of sugar into
the coffee. I am trying to revive
myself or something.
I am a body moved
by a great force. I’m no
better no worse than the rest.
I watch my feet shadowed
black charred but cold.
Fingers on my left hand tingle.
I hear thought’s friends.
I have learned to trust my intuition
but I still crave control.
This explains why I am still awake at 3.
The grass curls itself.