hibernation

i want some jittery, roaming ink.

draw flowers on wrists and paint cityscapes onto her back and breasts and sides. skies stretching to the chin, and further.

tramp cobbled streets past striped tarps - throw a cover over every peak. rabbits with lances are always the first to fall. we need more damp dark alleys and broken glass. i need more wet leaves and humming hillsides.

one day i'll learn to rest till my alarm goes off, no more of this sabotaged sleep.

i was born to hibernate through chilly afternoons.