Indigo afternoon

You can still see the indigo colony, the little
Masked folk mingling at the foot of the bed
With ogling eyes uneasy as the sea
Under this moon, rubbing her rabbit-filled eyes
Pulsating irregularly

Catapulted across the reaches, the quantum moon
Globes anew in fresh lightscape
I cloak myself circular, thinking that this is
The third room I have awoken in in
Three months. My particles are all skip.

Submerged in hypnopompic water I still expect
To open my eyes to a different window
To hear the boom of concrete, the thin whine
Of alleys, to feel the blaze
Of naked sky, noontime at dawn

Instead, when I peel back the curtains
There is only a gentle green dance and
Neat bricks that make no sound
The rooms here do not shake and I did not
Step off an airplane 5 hours ago: It is all in my head

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2 thoughts on “Indigo afternoon

  1. Hello! Stumbled on your blog. Really liked this poem, loved the imagery (the masked folks at the end of your bed made me think of Tove Jansson’s Hattifatteners for some reason) turns of phrase and there’s just something really organic and natural about it. Thank you for sharing!

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