Days & time confuse themselves
The bending of the sun’s first rays
I don’t mean to bother you much
But I’m lost between a solar phase
The details of how we exist
When we peer before the day comes to be
Glimpsing the chance at happiness
Stretching our thoughts around reality
They no longer play poetry on the radio
No longer exposed to life’s contextual details
We’re all lost; floating through time
Enchanted; told to swallow modern fairytales
But I’m trying to work out the specifics
Finding the reasons between the transistors
I’m guessing we’re still prone to biology
& physical failures of why I can’t resist her
Textured mornings
Sitting around waiting on the French press
Remnants of dreams & pleas
Filtered through a truncated dress
Beneath lies details
Of scattered lace & bows
But in the end, emotion far outweighs my prose
Captain Q 