In the morning you wake
before your dreams
drawn to the windows.
Mist rising
from the lake
as if it were real.
What are the words
too tough to chew
too big to spit out?
What are these blank spaces
on the map of memories
spread on the beds
you're forever leaving?
Where are you always going so early?
In the cat's unyielding eyes
you recognize an intelligence
alien and metallic.
You're not interested in stealing
anyone's breath.
It would be of no use to you, anyhow.
You breath a different
private atmosphere.
If you knew what home was
you could say how far you were away from it.
As it is,
you just want to understand
a few things
before you go.
As it is,
you feel most comfortable
halfway out the door.
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