before the west bound train shakes
the foundation deep enough
to elevate the marigolds
that burn orange with yellow
afterthoughts. She is breathing heavy
underneath the early daylight that
scatters across the hardwood floor.
after a purple threading nightmare
collapses, she is swimming in
the disconnection. Barely aware
of morning, but slipping slowly
into every hesitation. She sees the
disappearing dream struggle back
to unreachable prisons of despair.
the alarm clock beeps in a
cajoling tone. The world is a velvet
habitat that has no visable bars, but
some incarnations are more than
permanent. She breaks completely in this
eggshell lonely life. Where the sun
sends shivers to a distant place.