wound up

it's your beat that plays
your pattern that weaves, your wrists
that start a new thread

keyholed

when all you can see
is a tiny, shadow'd square

know there's sun, somewhere

*

why, don't be blue if rust's your preferred hue

good point

bend your mind to see
there are reasons to just be
all those yous you love

*

i'll swallow your soup
if you spike my lemonade
with cinnamon sticks.

dark room

i fell into this
and stumbled when i rose, and
then i learned to walk