Falling

Whispers of moonlight

woven in songs

a sloping smoothing sensation

forcing a high note to fall.

Falling falling into the world

clouds and hands and pencils

falling by my sides

scrambling objects

tumbling falling as I fly

I am nobody

you are nobody

yet we are all the same.

Gentle tissues, plates, spoons, and forks

yellow, blue, red, and purple

every color every letter number and label

falling from its place

washed away by a wave of clarity

and becoming one with letters

of dark poetry.

A treble clef flys by

there goes the tablet hole of randomness getting

bigger

A splat of turkey

a piece of sourdough bread

all of the objects

falling into my head.