Toast and sleeves

I'm advancing through cryptic tides of a black and white sea,
backwards through my arteries I search for ambivalence,
but am rocked back into the reality of conflict.

I bring my coffee to my mouth and down again,
receive my reserves of a half mended sleep
and carry through the last set of thoughts.

I shape the cup as briefcase on its side, redefining its purpose
but always retaining its old,
to keep me going.

Reviews

[roarke]

writing in the "now".... now you're in the Zen zone.