It’s cold and rainy today, but the first hot day of Spring is coming.
Prime napping weather. Sweaty naps so good that you feel like you woke up in a different dimension. You’ll have no idea who, where, or when the hell you are.
An ode to those naps. An attempt to describe the adventure of adjusting to the first few moments of waking reality.
first hot day of spring
wrapped in thin lace
of just-wakeful grace
before time sorts memories
touching the ruched fabric
of a fitted sheet
tracing raised patterns
of satin chromosomes
my childhood home
and the scent of hot gravel
like a punch to the nose
my spirit is running
where lilacs bloom in the alley
strangers to betrayal
i wonder if you taste outside on your lips
if the scent of wind clings to your hair
the passing cars sound like waves
just like every room you ever loved