my gorgeous sanity

 

 

life had once been defined by linears and absolutes,

.                                                                                             those

oh

so

determined

swatches of        time .

 

stacked like   esteemed leaders

in golds and blues

 

once, i’d been able to

drag them to the

middle

of the living room,

fan them out like

beautiful tarot cards,

.                                        close my eyes,

choose some wonderful thing

at random.

 

then one morning the

sun

came

up

but everything           was

.                                        dull,

gray like rain,

still as death,

and i was                 barren.

 

i ran to the closet

.                                   in the hall

tore past

coats

board games

orange rain boots .

 

but they were already         gone

my gorgeous sanity

 

those delicate

patterns

of some life.

 

The Speakeasy #151 is open!

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