from last summer.... "4:03 a.m."

The green apple light glows the time, 10:58pm. It appears as a fact, solid and true before the numbers shift, 10:59pm. Lying in bed, I turn my head and close my eyes to the light still left in the room. My body expands in its dissolving resolve. I am turned down and weak kneed, unraveling at the core as the liminal horizon draws near. I think if I am not careful I could become trapped here, until possibly pushed out by the upswell of dreams. "Give in, give in" my needs beg of my reasoning half. If trapped let it be for all the pulsing sounds plucking at heartstrings, and splintered boats swept up at sea. We find ourselves suddenly brave in the unexpected storm; eager to save ourselves, each other in the heartbeat moment just before… Lightning streaks and I awake to traces of you. Ghost trails, faint wisps of hair, arcing spine, silhouette of a face. I turn to my side. Pulling the sheet tight to my chest, I ask the storm to leave. I bargain, making promises that lose their retention as they evaporate at the first blush of morning heat. The sound of a jet engine gaining speed fills my left ear. I have trouble returning to sleep, half believing the storm was conceived by the forced separation of each elemental charge carried on skin and buried in dreams; born of me, mother of electricity in atmospheric form. The only thing to do is wait until the light of morning to take the damage in; then I will pick through through the blooms of destruction strewn across the yard. In the near distance a sudden shuffling burst, a chorus of migrating birds pushed off course en route to their winter destination, now sing as companions shepherding me into the autumn months ahead. Tree limbs bent and broken, splay across the narrowing path, forcing retreat for now. Sparking cells settling, extinguishing with each breath. The baying reverberations grow soft and dim as they roll over my shoulder and sink in the weak spot behind my knees. I lie awake and wait. The clock reads 4:03am.