Day Break

by Sankage Steno

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thoughts coalesce:
a whole

gleaming on liquid
crystals as the meth—
a sniff, a whiff

of psychedelic
murmurs, whispering
inside, I.


The night echoes
shatter the chamber;
first, the ringing
of the hundred thousand

an earworm. Then,
the smashing—flying saucers
in the milky galaxies,

a cerebrum. Where thoughts are heard
by I, remembering: the sound
of distant nearness.


I see you
there at the meeting
of two hands: a minute
& an hour.

by the moonlight
with a shadow, foreboding
like the humid air
of September.

Soon the rain starts
falling on skin, slithers
a riverine saltiness
forming & tracing
the contours of a face,

defying not gravity but
a certain gravitas
of the heart.


Tick-tock, tick-tock
& then a knock;

the pendulum swings
for a life not its own
& remembers

a time it’s not aware of—
when routines & rituals
are deemed sacrosanct,
never to be changed nor

criticized. & the numbers
a circuit you & I never race
are ticking down to a null
hypothesis: you forsake
.                                            I.

Swings the door penultimately
open. The pendulum answers:
tick-tock, tick-tock.


Eye to eye
now you & I,

the space in between grows
and crawls, a bug
of metamorphosis: flies.

He stops
& waves hello to say goodbye
& waves hello to say goodbye.