The world rustles the rise,
As I wipe my eyes and yearn for bed,
smack my feet on the floor
and drown in baths waterfall.
As quiet floods mornings day
I wish wash every sound away, close my ears and despise,
the sharp visceral noise,
Of all of love’s normal voice.
So I get on the train,
Let me swoon and delay and finally the temper obeys,
To life’s earliest art,
Loudest sound let it roar.
And suddenly I am held,
this rapturous arm then lets me go but streams underneath my skin,
To lull me back into my way,
And breaks me through into my day.
Dedicated to my commute on the T to work