UNTIL TOMORROW I’M NOT SURE
Today the light didn’t go up the wall
But the light can even be earned in my gut
And I don’t want to talk
About how I would unthread the fibers
Floating amongst the brain fog
My mind feels the pressure of identity
But when I laid on another’s hand
Soon after the day I was born on a fringe
I felt my mind splatter paint on itself
A trickle down the pattern of time
Filling in crevices here and there
My body knew its signature best
Long having gotten used to separation
The mind itself a forgone conclusion
I wish I could offer more
But it seems the times I did dried it up
And its so hard to grasp now
Maybe being what it was
The happiness could last
When I contributed
More than white light