soon I am taken in by the city and it loves me. It can withstand my days of lying down and apathy - staring coolly out windows where life buzzes below. I am the top of a high building in a plush bed and I lay and lay and lay. The city rains on the windows and creates a soothing soundtrack to my neutrality - to the chalky taste on my tongue that signals a downfall. I write pages of poetry and catch up on sleep, always catching up on sleep.
The twenty-seventh of November, 2016.
YOU ARE READING
honeysuckle: poems by colleen cosette goodman
Poetryhoneysuckles still bloom after dark. colleen cosette goodman © 2016-2018
