I see sides of me
that shouldn't exist -
corners of subconscious
in the light of day
living as puffs of smoke,
immaterial and false.

Never before have I thought
of these lips grazing yours -
it's not the 'us' I would wish for
even if I knew you better
(or at all beyond a
late night post show
memory)

But these deep slumber
encounters spin my mind
as I lose myself in my house
a maze of cupboards, searching
for luggage and hidden spaces.

In the hours before our mirage
of an encounter, I waited
on a freeway, suitcase in hand,
searching for a break in traffic.

Stepping out onto cooled bitumen,
my mind heated with recognition
that I would die here, bags full
of memories, zipper open
and life strewn across
a bustling carriage-way.

Yet in the loop of constructed mania,
I struggled to recollect these shattered pieces
wheeled myself back to the edge,
and awaited the repetition of
desperation.

07/15/2004

Author's Note: Dedicated to my dreams, because they're so random and bizarro

Posted on 07/15/2004
Copyright © 2024 Karen Michelle