Shaking eyelids in the hallway
where the only thing that guides you
is your hand against the drywall,
so you don’t fall and forget
when you wake up now.
Your dreams are of nothing but cows
gathering in herds around
the base of a tornado; with only hope
that it will throw them past the fences.
You’re beaten senseless by the fact
the wind feels different when your hand’s
held out the window now,
and you never really rolled it down
for anything.
Silver drops suspended in the glacier
of this memory’s core temperature.
They all align like there was more to it
than providence.
Convince yourself to stay up a little later
by just staring at the candle wax,
and thinking about ways to get it back,
like it was never really burning
to begin with.
Forget the people that you sit with when you’re
looking at the movie screen for answers
to the questions you don’t care about enough
to ask yourself. It might make up
for all the red eyes
you’ve been wearing since
that rain cloud showed
and shook apart the bridge between your town
and almost anywhere that mattered.

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