Sheets

sheets

i remember when i was younger,

my friend asked me if she should wear

one

two

different earrings at once

and i told her

no i don’t

think so

because i thought that normal

was the status quo

any deviations were simply strange

manifestations of who i’ve ultimately become

i am drawn to

the shapes of simple flowers

fives u’s

and an o

splintered in the midst of paint

like how nostalgic items carry a weight

senses

just evaporate upon touch

and i’m falling back to the

one

two

three

steps on the sidewalk

drawn to patterns and structure

but i am

three

two

one

afraid that they will fall apart

so i bury myself in the abstract

zero

zero

and that’s about all i can say without

burning my tongue on the waxed seal

sheets i am pressing

deep into crevices that blot out the flood

attempts to stop the

drip

drip

of consciousness that threatens any illusion of

normality

(or whatever that means)

deliciously content

in simple motions

until the dam bursts and i am 

spish

splash

drenched in thoughts

wet sheets that choke off access to

the dry and brittle air

---

By Kari Trail