A Poem – This Big Life

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This big life

I find myself alone in a clean house
Listening to the art of a riskier woman
Love, success, experience

They float away on a wisp with every phrase uttered in boredom

I’ve already made up the night we’ll meet
My autopilot is mundane
I want it to dance in magic
Wobble in ecstasy
Run away on a whim into a flood of euphoria
At least in my imagination
I can be free
But without course correction, this craft doesn’t even crash
It sails into an arid void
And I can’t imagine anything but cracked plains beneath the shadow
Perhaps a forlorn cactus

An armadillo, hunkering

What happened to the excited spirit, starry eyed
Feeling butterflies
Did they fly away so fast?
Perhaps this is balance
A balanced life of laundry and infatuation
Folding my excitement into the sheets