Every now and then

I get the impression

I am somewhere else.

 

Although my bones are in position

For the shake that will break me

There are places I have not seen.

 

I could have been there

Before if I had tried

And not relived the world

That whispers when I sleep.

 

The murmur and creek

Of dreams failing on a beat,

A single misgiving

On any particular word.

 

Falls somewhere between

The place I have loved and lost,

The slow moving silhouette

Of somewhere else.