Well, But In Time...

Well, But In Time...

I've darkened;

eyes, bitter brown,

skin, soiled tan.

Narrow becomes the tunnel of my days,

repetitive ritual between the sun and moon.

I expand inside my shell,

stretch my physical self,

as the coals of desire grow cold

and my mind contracts into itself.

I'm drawn with too black a pen,

written in too thick a script,

on paper too thin to hold air.

So I look beyond the border

and peek over the margins.

I pull into me what I've lost within,

hoping to jump start motivation

and fill up on inspiration.

Popping happiness twice a day.

February 11, 2003

Tressa Lee Breen