moments hang grossly upon the
thick and humid air,
memories
coded in sounds that dangle
furtively in front of me….

would that my fingers could pluck
these remembrances out of the ether
and objectively turn them
around and around
in my hand
until I could exact the last from them
and finally let them go…

alas, the night doesn’t allow for sleep
and the noise that plays
within my heart, taunting me,
escapes my grasp-

So I wait on the very edge of thought
For release
From the prison
that houses my heart