A Lightened Load

It’s an eerie atmosphere
the way roads speak futures to thrill seekers
the elders of nature must exist as birds
they are the earliest to rise, the earliest to inconspicuousness
At night when the heavy motors are silenced by the lack of sunlight and shortening of oxygen
my heart lives in placidity with the calm, forced pleasure of tiny rivers
the only kind where footprints are known as it’s foundation.
The scent of cigarette smoke is lightened and the dotted canvas of pearls above my flesh tell tales to keep me satisfied
the threads I use to shield my bones carry the perfect fit, brilliantly correlating with the nature-stricken shade of nighttime
my home is beautiful at this hour, though its wear and tear from selflessness and constant worry cannot be masked from touch
Just as anyone perceived as normal I seek colors in darkness
Though the crisp cool winds and the damp shell of wet skin speak more truths than any mouth giving birth to words, my blurred perspective counting children instead of stubborn tongues has healed more than I’ve thanked it for
A bed made upon melted black plains has been a constant through desolate times meant for dreaming.
A cold night is a winter, and a warm one a comfy sofa.