Transitional
By: Ashleigh Cheshire - Mar 06, 2022
Transitional
At the center of my scalp
(My feelers being
Equidistant to ozone
And my inward cavity
Of consciousness),
My hair parts,
And like these lines,
I split in two.
My knowing girlhood brings
Me in and out of inspiration,
Of waking and sleeping.
Dreaming makes me truer
As I journey into the latest
Act of a soul at the threshold
Of lore and awakening.
Amuse your spirit. Fill it.
Sleep with an attachment to
Each self-displacement, you are susceptible to that memory.
Find your imaginings
Somewhere there. That is the young prerogative
We forfeit for logic.