CATHARSIS

I hit the reset button
because my thoughts were taking too much time

And the yellow primrose and fuchsia sweet pea were stunning this year.
How the primrose folded in their yellow pages into an obeisant origami
when the sun closed its eyes, and the fuchsia flutter stumbled
up my bedroom window, tracking leaves. Tiny miracles against various wars.

I had said too much from a broken motherboard
and threw away my memories when the keyboards were switched.
Keys were broken and lost. Important keys to the secrets of the universe.

Letters that needed nimble hands. So much elegant music
missing scores. Initials carved into birch trees—boasting indelible love.

And the flash drive—it could no longer hold me.
But I had lost that too in the shuffle of falling dominos and thin cards.
I had been winning, but the wind sliced my vanity into more than two.

Perhaps you know how this all feels. Or perhaps you rubberneck
at the train crash and tsk tsk, it was going way too fast
and the woman with all of her children piled into the careless SUV
should not have been in a hurry to fix her hair.

Yes, things come as surprises. Offering up the most infinitesimal
glitters of sun-crash and shattered star. At night, the crickets vie
with green-lit fireflies for noble attention. Before the catbird
signals the rest that it is time.

Yes, I slept finally in the downy clouds of my ancestors beating
through by dilapidated heart and chromosomes. Yes, I survived
many kaleidoscopic dream fractals and other nonsense.

I slept finally for days. And woke up alive.

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