In pieces we
reassemble with
edges a little more ragged.
I am, and am exactly
where I need to be
in this minute of faded normal.
So easy to recall, to fall
back into blurry dreaming.
You know, don’t you?
That briefest in-between –
by pixel, by shadow,
by ones and zeros –
through viscous wakening,
sticky with hope. I’d like to
reimagine
daylight’s intrusion
as something gentler,
less delineated.
caroline ridgway 