raised expectations
I allow myself some raised expectations, chocolate chip cookies for the pride,
I shouldn’t.
Dancing late at night alone anticipating,
joyful moments. I recite.
words I could have said,
I borrow my exact friends, and those imaginary,
some friends to be, I hope,
and others, as it turns out…
I rub my lips into the pillowcase at the nightfall,
I wake up when it’s dark,
deciding if I’m thirsty,
indicted flipping the phone.
Excitement sits on my bedside in a perceptive disguise,
fermenting decay of my dreams,
While I’m distilling sweat. My head does calculus of instances.
My pelvic griddle combs enactment of eternal verities.
I wish I could just leave the exemplifying principles to dreaming,
exhibit images as evocative allegories,
and turn them into stories,
transmute expectation into a pasteurised expression,
of an innate impulse.
linked mentions for "raised expectations":
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poetry
Materialistic Pathology (2020) Spiritual Tourism (2020) Practicing Man (2020) Spiritual Maturity (Coming Soon!) what to si room and the master
Materialistic Pathology (2020) Spiritual Tourism (2020) Practicing Man (2020) Spiritual Maturity (Coming Soon!) what to si room and the master