21 

Eunoia, capturing mounds of
visions in the net of 5 
simple vowels

you’re found fumbling
again with yet another
morning hangover in a dress,
and the perpetual search for skin
to graft with the sun invading
through those same blinds

that can’t seem to muffle
the carried echoes of cheerleaders
stranded somewhere in a field.
sinister, almost. can you transcribe
it and impress your professor with
another futile attempt at abandoning
the security blanket you’ve woven
above her, them, me, you &
I again

maybe there’s something to exhume
from the marriage of was and the will
a pendulum in smooth and constant motion