Archive | September 2018

Early Riser

Thousands
of mornings
have started the same
where you sleep warm
and yet
I rise
the quiet day
nudging me
with gentle thoughts
forcefully pulling
my covers off
and yet
I don’t feel
like rhyming today
where rules
must count
and lines
be broken
so the naked
truth
must spill
or spray
or drip
and dry
until my secret’s
clean
and the mist
of it
forms in the steam
and yet again
I trace
my heart
on the mirror
cold
while in your dreams
you must decide
if you’ll wake
in time
to see.