reaching

i.
November: I was tender with words, bloodied with inspiration
then the light flared so brightly
the bloodvessels in my bistre eyes swelled like summer rivers
filled with saltwater;
I was stranded by the tide.

ii.
4 AM: the spinedragon awakens, and sends
panicked missives to muscles and nerves
legs kicking out, kicking away sleep
even as I chase her as desperately
as a drowning girl reaches for the shore,
as a girl dying of thirst in the dunes.
(it's always too much
      or never enough)

iii.
December 3rd 2020: I awoke in a Gemini dream.
my god, the lights are so bright -- too bright -- I can't see
but I cling to that glittering twin
believing in better times colliding with now like Andromeda diving starsfirst into the spiral arms of the Milky Way
also in a future
in a possibility
long ahead and far away.

iv.
sunrise: tangled words like dewladen webs
a treasure map marked with indigo ink
I have tripped myself up and imprisoned myself
in an oubliette of dreams
carved from the sleep an insomniac
never reached

v.
in my delusions:
someone sees me
through the mists.

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