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A Day Unresolved

So un-asleep, the sheet’s

a beach of footprints

waiting for the tide.


Her shape question-marked,

crucified, an inquisition

scales her eyes.


Wincing at infinities,

she stares a spot

and picks at it.


Each star a prick,

a javelin

thrown across the centuries


makes waves

just deep enough to swim

before light breaks


 her open skin.


◄ A Clockwise Direction

Adopting At Our Age ►


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Thu 11th Apr 2024 08:07

Thanks, David. Meant to be about sleeplessness.

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David RL Moore

Wed 10th Apr 2024 10:13

I've always been partial to the use of an "un" suggesting some intermediate state of being that may be mysterious. It used to be used far more, so is probably frowned upon these days, not by me.

The final stanza is like a delivery system for the arriving day, laid gently onto shifting sands.

My interpretation only, others are available.



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