Sunday, October 7, 2012

harlem, monday, 9 a.m.

Here I lay
awake and
disheveled
so overexposed
and underfed
and there you are
so starlit-weary
dewy lashes and a feather
lies under
your head
The gurgle of morning
a car sputter-splashes
and wet sunshine garbage
calls 'good morning' to us
as a child wearing
high socks
counts the cracks in the sidewalk
and kisses his mum
before boarding
the bus

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