silverwheel
Bluelighter
a rise of energy
The light of a monitor engulfs me,
a nimbus bouncing from a nose, around the hair.
I sit at this desk, an illuminated figure in the black air
imagining in the clicks of tiny letters,
and I stretch into this beachfront photograph on the wall,
my legs distancing from their hips,
and resigning to a far sight of water.
Careful, observant, I look to gather information
devising systems and structures
capable of harnessing energy,
boiling water into fuel,
sand into mountains.
I am a mystic,
determining worlds with a shake
of a finger, notes flourishing
at the slightest of intuitions.
Filled with idea, I glide my arm over the world
and rise, promising to return.
The bright lights hit in the early morning
on skin pale, ashamed.
I am shriveled, flooded,
and weakened, torn from the earth,
resigning in the open daylight.
The light of a monitor engulfs me,
a nimbus bouncing from a nose, around the hair.
I sit at this desk, an illuminated figure in the black air
imagining in the clicks of tiny letters,
and I stretch into this beachfront photograph on the wall,
my legs distancing from their hips,
and resigning to a far sight of water.
Careful, observant, I look to gather information
devising systems and structures
capable of harnessing energy,
boiling water into fuel,
sand into mountains.
I am a mystic,
determining worlds with a shake
of a finger, notes flourishing
at the slightest of intuitions.
Filled with idea, I glide my arm over the world
and rise, promising to return.
The bright lights hit in the early morning
on skin pale, ashamed.
I am shriveled, flooded,
and weakened, torn from the earth,
resigning in the open daylight.
