In the morning,
I sneeze out the ashes
of my leftover dreams.
Oh to leave the enrichment of
the internal riverbed made.
Where the unknown familiars communicate.
Where I am brave enough to ask, but also foolish enough
to dare enter.
I leave traces everywhere like bread crumbs
of myself.
They are snatched up by hungry scavengers.
Seemingly innocent mysteries
Seemingly innocent crimes.
Shape around the morning clap of claves.
Snapping behind my lashes.
© Sonja J. Johnston 02-May-2012
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