coiled around a bedpost, Dan Flore

Waiting, 48X60, John Brosio


coiled around a bedpost

I have seen you sketched with jagged lines
lying in your dreamless bed
pillow boulders
white sheet rivers
you can’t help but dip your fingers in
your knuckles swallowed by the creases in
little folds and indentations
that rise and pull
where do they take you
down into what glides into an endless skid

where am I in your crumpled tissues
and old bark eyes
sometimes I’m just a current through a wire
energy unseen
pulsing through your unkempt morning
the flap under a hawk’s wing
missing somewhere against its brown
in a smile
a charade
but circling
always circling

Dan Flore

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