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