photo credit: Tanguy Sauvin

Startled By Thunder

I am done.

Done with

some

thing

 

human, Divine, or geographic.

It could just be me, or the way you look at me,

or the way I’ve been thinking my

 

Small thoughts.

Thoughts that sound like the whirring of shiny black insects.

 

Thoughts without currency, without power, without blood.

Thoughts I can’t stand to be alone with.

 

I am listlessness. I am torpor. I am done

with dying in this place

of dry imagination.

 

I need to move

before I start

hating

you

For hating

me.

 

If I should ever resolve to leap.

Don’t say a word.

Just pray for me.

Pray for courage, pray for rain.

Pray for a jasmine scented wind

and the banishment of

small thoughts

no matter

what.

 

Then close your eyes and

imagine a cloud

of shiny black insects that

startled by thunder,

take wing

and disappear

into the

warm night air.