Monday, August 05, 2013



Funny thing about them --
When you are falling asleep they are not there.
Yet without wakefulness they would never arrive.

What does midnight mean when half a world
is eating breakfast and tanning on a beach?
Were we too close to ourselves to hold on to it?

Agree with me, girl. We were the poem rhyming.
The song that sang to an open window.
Two splayed cats in the grass, spent from play.

Dreams do not exist until we're sleeping?
As if the sun does not quite shine today
when all the while it is just moisture in the way?

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --

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