Unfoldings

These are days of unmet expectations.

When half-realized words rush to spelling; An epic unwritten, scurrying past the glacial-slow unfolding of time. When desire screams for satisfaction and the darker bent hurls shaded-eye forecasts of disappointment.

Days when emotions linger on the edge of articulation; When all seems to be action and reaction.

When what is before - here and solid, and in the mind's eye - falls before conjurings.

I am the delirium tremens, doubled-over and lost to the cravings of my desires.

20-second minutes come, tripping past consciousness with their satisfaction, their light. They bring short moments, captured and squeezed parasitcally. But they are overshadowed by longing and are gone, lost.

These are days of unmet expectations.