Sunday, January 4, 2009

Seven A.M.

The alarm sleeps,

With only an orange eye cracked open,

As it relays passing moments and dreams.

Ink inside blinks

Numbers tiredly,

Another eye steadily opens....

Then closes.

Arms writhe, dragging themselves

Across unmade bedsheets

Fighting to awake the connected body

Dark sleep holds on tighter,

Not yet ready to release its willing

Prisoner.

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