steeped in hiding. away from the luxury of fluorescent words,
those that sparkle in the dark, like i need no streetlights or taxi rides -
i cant publish the drafts about ecstasy, the slow ride
through the streets of paradise, lined with fantasy,
music....i cant speak of the upheaval, with my shovel -
the court-martial of an ordinary woman's life -
and the journey back -
through the thickets of myself, creepers that grow into my eyes,
nails entangled in mush - as i looked for a way out -
through the song- infested streets of a heartless city,
the ever growing markets...
and the endless desires of my insomnia, to sleep -
i am back and this time i will not leave -
