I run from place to place ~
because why not?
My apartment smells of sweet potatoes
& sandalwood.
I take my tea strong
and my chocolate dark.
This night feels like oh so many other
nights: The premonition of spring,
the tease of night-blooming jasmine
on the tongue. The past is becoming past.
The darkness is receding into
candlelight. There is only one here
who knows me, & only one I
know. I remember every night in this
one: the plain familiarity of strewn clothes
& clean sheets. A face in the mirror that must
be my own. The tender imaginings of
solitude that never tire. A million lives
crushed & scattered like perfume
petals on my pillow. A recurring dream.
A reflection split in two. A gaze I return
unflinching. All of it contained in the vessel
of this night, in the barrel of solitude
deep and beckoning as a well.
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