~waking up wednesday

january is quiet

& stars move in slow motion

as if they’re falling asleep above

a half-moon shadow

carved on my bed

there’s dust on the nightstand

thick, like overused adjectives

searching for nouns to describe this

emptiness, the way it lies

in the shape of a spiral notebook

that writes the history of us

how thirty-two seasons together

equals the distance between two pillows

I swallow another mouthful of darkness

& drown myself in sounds of this night

my writer’s ghosts will visit soon

& these thin walls are whispering

the forecast calls for snow

lah  1.19.17 ©®