This is not the poem I wanted to write. I can't seem to write the one I want to write, but oh well. This is what came out.
-
the world awash in light
woven round me in bright bands
fallen open, spinning past
resting on the surface
so soft my skin I feel the barest bruise
sunk down into it, made up of it
breathing through it.
Awake
life is pulled up with me
drawn up past the boundary
intermingled.
full of flame resting on the still water
my self a mirror
a bright and private room
I wake within and know you.
