Head out

Pinned my despair to a ledger line

A printout

The blood moon had made it molasses, I

Measured my sleep

My foreward was shorter than yours, I could see

I had a nice dream

It was awkward for you, even harder for me

Not to ‘be’

You swam out

The broccoli mountains had boiled now

I’d drown

I sat on the side and consoled myself

I let the light leave

I knew there were Labradors waiting for me

Where had I been?

I’m calling my head to come back to my feet...