Wings

The rhythm of my morning
is a caffeine fuelled fire
filled with rock and roll,
words, and sweat.

Clarified redemption
drips from my skin
as rain beats a rhythm
of stoccato dreams
on the metal roof.

violent slash soothing

Winged words soar, swoop
and flirt to obsession
I see something in myself
I didn’t notice before

frustrated slash jittery

Sweaty when words
dance close enough
for possession.

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