Shuttle Bus 17: A Poetry Collection

Groundhog Nights/5:30 AM

The familiarity of this lucid dream

I have been far too closely accustomed with

Will make my grim reality fall submissive

To the otherworldly satisfaction I have,

When looking at your dazzling profile

Amongst the outlining mountains in the

Reflection of the aquamarine marsh ponds,

I trespass thoughtfully silent, amused by the

Way at which your strawberry hair falls over

Your left eye, my arms at my sides just wishing

To part the strands beneath your ear, so I can continue

My exploring within your frames of magnitude, a pool

At which I could swim in for as long as this night

May allow me.

Counting your freckles is like connecting dots in

A skyscape of lantern-lit stars, as cosmic rubble

Causes these bodies of mass to rumble and envelope

To show their inner cores of petal pink and bombastic

Cyan, possibly a sherbet orange.

As I go to caress the ridges of your cheeks, the plateaus

That snuggle your dimples, like how quilts

Preserve nativities and cultural tradition.

I am dislodged from my assertion.

5:30 A.M.

My alarm shutters, I pry open my sight, like

Removing a stake from a defaced ankle,

Lying broken, dislocated, scarred,

Untidily stiff.

I lay frozen as my curtains shake hands with

The beaming faculties of sunrise.

I mustn't disclose this folklore as legendary,

But rather with an ending I can interpret.

I ease back, ready to await my princess.

For it is the only ounce of remembrance I can bear.

In this control, my emotions to not deter,

My hope not shattered.

You were always my princess, but you were an

Expectation I could no longer resemble.

So with my essence of power amid the hours

Of solitude, I press rewind and start again.

I am a shackle to my own mind, and my mind

Commands me to remain inside, which is how

I lie bedridden.

I unplug my final connections with the outside

Wanderers, I quit my occupation, I cover the

Blinds with planks, and I hit play once more,

But this time, I remain frozen on Earth, as

The man who never awoke again.

I kiss the temples of my everlasting creation.

"Welcome home," she replies.