The fog releases
And vision is better for it;
Gripping leaves and periwinkle,
Like curling toes and swaddling clothes..
-The nicotine trigger-
Sweet, sour strawberry and caramel—
Just like mama used to make—
Essential flavors you will never fuse.
Sitting in the sky light,
Sweating the heat of the second story,
I found my milk box in the move.
Life wages war inside—
What will mother think?
What will mother do?
Hear this poem performed on Soundcloud by searching Somnambulist