Thurday means...
-When my Being Wants to Go Out-
At midnight
When my being finally decides
it wants to go out
I displace my sleep for a while
And turn my feet toward the night.
My senses,
being well versed in distraction,
make large, moon-shaped swipes
across the dark air
which slants itself away from being discovered.
Tendrils of light pour recklessly out of a gutter
A few strands catch on the lip,
And tangle themselves into flickering puddles
The weaving shadows
Wink and crinkle into the deep throat of darkness.
All my illusions are pulled taught
and pinched around the corners of perception
like a veil of latex,
they protect me from the fluidity of the night,
As my skin dances in the shadows.
-It Begins as a Secret-
The termites feel it first
That soft shift in pondering
A small cough in the sky.
The shivering ferns
Touch themselves nervously
As if daring us to notice,
Their fingers outstretched
Desperate for balance.
Autumn begins as a secret.
The leaves have been holding out all summer,
A secret both bright and divine-
The kind which turns without moving a muscle,
Reality is recycled beneath your notice
Our focus is gradual
And only the yawning eyes seem to refract transition.