999 Z20

interstate dreams
asleep and forgetting
digital tongue twist
sit across the valley
with legs stretched

but I wake
oh it passes

a choice
not to spin
fall in the grass
heaven as a ceiling

and it passes

rope wrists
tied so loose
tight
like the nights
fell apart

and it passes

chorus
with a
“let us in”
not accustomed to watching

out on the forehead
father’s bones
buried twice in the beach

and it passes

put words in the hourglass
tumble tumble
which one fits right
all stuck in tape
across the lip of the drop
there comes a time
where they slip

and it passes