my system’s awake at night
and it won’t stop scattering through my veins,
dopamine screeching like the birds
who awaken at the crack of dawn.
hushed whispers spread like butter across my mind,
the taste so magnified—the taste of dreams.
broken pieces scatter in the sun, gravity
connecting them through an unsatisfied need, building
in the back of my mind,
heavy and rusted like an old metal door,
tired of being pried open
and forced shut.
but when the moon rises,
comforting the sunburns of the earth,
magnets pull the pieces together.
the temporary glue of hope is dangerous,
but a dagger dipped in honey is sickly sweet:
dripping in gold, disillusioning the blood kissing the edge.
laying in bed with a thundering heart, the stars whisper to me.
the dust of my ancestors fills the sky,
glinting with what i could sense was
courage in their eyes.
i danced with them through the night,
living amongst palm trees
money green in my hand
blood rushing in my cheeks
cupping the face of a woman
opening up to a man
flying with wings that don’t melt—
the sun broke out.