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

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