dredpiratebunny

all is not quiet tonight
underneath my feet the washing machine
in its last rotations
shuddering the water out
knowing it has little life left
rumbles the floor
while in my room the fan
not yet retired from summer
spins and spins and
spins

and my bloodstream is
thick with the incoming possibilities
of
knowledge and new rules
the swollen red cells uncertain in their
fight for love
and some kind of semi-definable future
trapped in a lazy river
dreaming of rapids
and the niagara that never comes

the night outside my window
peering in
wanting me to be undressing
but i am
instead
illuminated by the glow of the screen
that once upon a time told me your stories

in between the purrs of my second hand cat
i drown in the noise of the wind in the trees
and the leaves that gently hand down
the cacophony of rain drops
from branch to limb
to the bed of earth to
tuck away inside of...
a siren's lure to the centimeter soles of my feet
a song of mud and gravity

all is not quiet tonight
between the inhale and the exhale
and the things i cannot say are the loudest words of all.