|
|
Abarent Behavior
I blink at light that isn’t there,
And speak to shadows on the stair.
My meals are clocks, my sleep is wrong—
I hum one phrase all evening long.
The mirror twitches when I grin,
A second self beneath my skin.
I file my dreams in numbered rows,
And tell the ants what no one knows.
I weep when spoons are out of place,
And fear the kindness in a face.
My hands repeat what they forget,
They write confessions I’ve not met.
Voices dance in copper wire,
They chant in sync, they don’t retire.
I laugh too loud at silence deep,
I wake while others softly sleep—
And swear the clouds know where I’ve been.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
|
|