Friday, 10 August 2012

Good morning gibberish

Puffy eyes, this puffy girl dozed with dreams the morning has yet to overturn. Dreams in buckets. Sloshing and sliding over the wooden floorboards. I'm sleepy.

Sleepy when the morning tries to snag my attention with its fishhook fingers.

Sleepy for online hollering, the internet a sorry dustbowl I sit and wait to settle.

The air turns chalky and red in this breeze and I can't see the things I came here to seek.

Coffee, coffee, cacophonix. Parp your caffeine bugles in the crook of my ear and let me leap out of this skin that's got so goddamn dusty.

I know you're not trying to make me fall face-first to the floor, but I am clinging to the sides of the room like a broken spiderweb who is shocked to find she’s sticky.

Coffee, coffee, coffee.

Give me a set of divining rods and tell me to walk like a tightrope acrobat—foot after foot after foot—until the twitches whisper here is where the hot brown liquid steams through the earth.

Give me a grinder and old rocks that turn to shiny beans under a sleepy noon. Magic beans. I'll trade a thousand cows for a cup of your kisses.

Puffy eyes and an overhanging rock I keep my body tucked up beneath. This dust sticks to my soft and squidgy flesh. This dust lands everywhere, the sleep that crusts in the corners. I can't tell you what the day is demanding yet, but I'm not sure that I'm ready.

I think I'll retreat to the yolk of the egg and cocoon my embryonic self in its shell.

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