wrong side of bed

the only beauty
i can find
in the world
this morning
is in
sylvia’s words
and the wildflowers
in your gaze

i got up
on the wrong side
of the bed
fell into a mobius loop
of constant waking
then stumbling
into the negative space
between thought and action

it is cold
yet the bitds still sing
it is overcast
yet the sun still shines
i shiver here
longing for you
with every chattering
whisper of love

the mirror reflects
the ugliness
in my empty eyes
as this bonfire
of unchecked desire
roars hidden behind
these green orbs
of occular despair

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