poem – this drift –

This drift
is a mirage
a back-to-nothing

My head
tight durations of madness
a tangle, not euphoria
bleeds

I escape into warmth
where mind-to-life
is layered magic
not another monologue dramatized into sanity
but a place where we grow into sun together
wrap the storm

Perhaps I could slip through
almost slumber into you
bring this silent passion closer

Slowly, just for tonight
let’s talk with want and curiosity
trace the wind, the white air

Down in the alone isn’t part of the dream

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