between you and me
the slow spread of consciousness
is blurred ceiling lines gathering
into clarity.
how to resist consciousness
is sprawled limbs gathering
into a body.

if I bundled up in sleep
and controlled the number
of breaths per minute,
if my dream muffled ears
paid no attention to
the cough of morning traffic.

could this drowsy peace be real life,
could i flex a lethargic body,
make myself the shape
I am as it is?


Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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