3-2-15
Everyone is building a garden
while I push the earth with my toe.
The signposts and placards
are not meant for me.
When there are dice involved,
I prefer to look the other way.
I am so unsatisfied by sleep,
instead I lay and twitch, to reach
what is unattainable by day.
I tell time by footprints, the day
of the week is a cupped shell.
I smile at the standing water, but faces
are a molten sea of flowers.
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