Quiet for the Morning
mgolia6@gmail.com
mgolia6@gmail.com
It’s quiet these days, awaiting the other shoe’s blues to
ring true
Me, I sing em too, but softly, like a voice subdued
Im glued to the notion that the ripple from the fall will
undo
The cause and effect, defects, infecting the decisions I always choose
But you see right through, a cascade of bruises that are
there but don’t show
You know how to strike, like a flint skips to lighter fluid,
ignites with a hollow glow
Feel it deep below my skin, beginning to spread, like flame
to fuel, and I know
That this quiet is pervasive, contagious, elegiac and
abrasive, like rust on the soul
I bring nothing to the morning, it’s sun shining brighter in
some inside joke
The latch on this door, cracked frame, holds nothing in or
out, even if its not broke
Watch the intense point of the suns rays trigger kindling to
simmer and smoke
And through these doors, unhinged, I chew heavy on words so
as not to choke
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