Like star strands at dusk,
the setting sun allows them
to gleam amongst
swaths of
slate blue
and plumes of
cloud plum—
Like those dream-steeped
seconds upon waking
when synapses
start sparking, and
the body goes from
molecule waltz to
skin and bone
and live heat.
As time yawns,
I go on
dawning,
waking,
becoming
something more…
me.
pm poetry 