#its been a hot second since i tried to write poetry
4.1. Number one
2. Mirror
3. Strawberry
4. Paralysis
5. Understudy
when i wake up there is sunlight dripping
across my face down my hands
like maple syrup
with its sticky golden rivulets
dripping
pooling
soaking into the hollows of my bones until i am so filled
to the brim with golden honeyed sunlight
that i cannot move
when i wake up there are dreams bridging the beams of my brain
my own personal cobwebs
hazy milky white in need of a proper dusting
looking so much like spider silk but stronger
somehow
waiting for sticky sunlight to trace its way along the grain and
eat through the glue
that keeps me from moving
