Today I won
against the lukewarm wetness
evaporated by an invisible sun.
My face, comfortably dry
and capable of standing on its own
out in the open and not hiding
under the blankets;
the arid smell of too good to be true.
Today I won
against the lukewarm wetness
evaporated by an invisible sun.
My face, comfortably dry
and capable of standing on its own
out in the open and not hiding
under the blankets;
the arid smell of too good to be true.
The Conscious Hour 