Ticking Away Thursday
Started the day with a Merlot dream, alluring and strange. Poured out the hours at work (started in snow; ended in black cold, collar of my pea coat up). My eyes are tired, now. The house is quiet. Don't feel very great but learned today that I'm off tomorrow. Sleeping in could be good.
Odd music, in earphones. A beer so cold it makes me shiver. The second hand blinking around, dialing deeper. Feeling absence and the contours of empty. A neurochemical geography. You could build a black house and live in that ashy landscape. The shadows, there, would be white.
Missed you so much, today. Pointless to express it. A black mirror.
It feels late; but it is not. I could sleep -- but haven't stirred the motivation to fall, yet. I need to change. Guess I have changed already. I need to change more.
Tired, though. Echos of that velvet dream still lingering. Ghosts of hours piled-up behind me. Thursday, tumbling away.
Let it go.
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