few hours prior to dawn
thinking of life
differently
what if? myself
to sleep
perhaps...
but the past
flashes in my mind
like fireflies
on a summer's eve
thoughts traveling ever so gently
through the dark
spaces of my
consciousness
at nighttime while
others peacefully dream
I sit alone
staring at the computer
screen
tapping out emotions
in morse code
as if the keyboard can feel
my spirit
yet it feels nothing
numb
as my fingertips be
as mental
photographs of yesterday
envelope
my being
seeing it all like a
movie
plays out...
the ending a fabrication of
false reality
because this is
what is
and the could be's
will never-
or better yet
may not
flower this season
and though I will shower myself
with reason in the morning
at present the night has my attention
and rest suspended by
forgetten sensibility
silly of me to have doused
imagination
in a belated epiphany
only to paint myself
in a corner of question marks
