literophanes.com

Photo: Creative Commons

~

escapism in a pickling jar

acquires its own flavor

but by a certain age ideals sour

it’s why the moment before waking is so attractive

~

to wander to a place not so far

just enough to fool reality

into tasting familiar

and youthful

~

distinct from memory

void of reminiscence

something beyond convention

full of effortless thought

~

tastes surrounding texture

sounds beyond range

spots of canvas untouched by pigment

moments in negative space

~

one is fleeting

but a collective contained in distilled borders

is a hopeful consolation

of an idea matured in waiting

~

I reach for it when waking

then with eyes open it ricochets off of walls

promising to return

obligating me to daydream

 ~

Posted on February 2, 2014 at 4:24 pm in My Writing   |  RSS feed |   Reply   |   Trackback URL