Tag: melancholia

daggers

all daggers deserved,
crimson drifts to drain

11 Sep 25

let us slumber

come with me and
let us slumber and
dream without
nightmare or pain
let our winter
bury us under
for long dark nights
our bones entangled
skin drawn tight
let us slumber in
that everlasting kiss
and evermore

08 Sep 25

slumberinthat

chilldaycrawl
intobedcavegrey
turnofftheworld
sleepysadweary
slumberinthatplace
wherethereis
notevenme

05 Sep 25

before the jading

a close up shot of jade rings — *Photo by Nam Lê on Pexels.com*

back before the jading
i wore trust on my sleeve
heart portable,
to give away free
but that was
back before the jading

might i carve to whale
with the piling up
of so much green
had i the skill,
i might carve to whale

but time has drifted
and i, a drifter from dream
suspicious of dealers in jade
unlike those days
without whales
back before the jading

03 Sep 25

slumber
```
chill breeze flowing
through open windows
and everyone sleeping
in this sleeping house

my own mind slumbers
too
and i wonder if it
will ever wake
```
There are more times of late when I feel more simulacrum than person. This is one of those times, where I am quite content in not moving forward if only this moment could linger. Stop the simulation, let me sleepy-slumber with late summer (or early autumn, I suppose) on the morn, windows open, bare legs cold, the faint bird chirps without rhythm or meaning, the highway drone from a few miles away. Coffee mug in hand, ignoring the turmoil in the news. Watching cats watch whatever and not feeling too much pain in the joints until I move.
I could be that simulacrum, my brain says — for a while longer. Record and set to repeat. I’m tired of most everything else. Add a section when I lay atop my bedding and sleepwalk in half-remembered dreams, maybe program a section where I catch chill and nest underneath too. What about a companion? While a nice thought, I’m not sure such scenes allow for companionship. The slumbering simulacrum seems a solitary affair, doesn’t it? Or maybe… but no. We’ll leave that for the dreaming this simulacrum might have.
If it were possible to have this half-dream state of existing, I might even stop writing. It would be my gift to the world.
Hush now. I feel another dream.
24 Aug 25