In motion,
The nights aren’t so cold,
And I am thinking,
Putting together the
Ideas into marks,
On paper
Zeroes and ones,
Working towards
Goals and finding joy,
Along the way,
Craving sweetness,
But I practice
Delayed gratification,
Seeking the space,
To think and connect,
Bold enough to fuck up,
Over never risking at all,
A student with a deadline,
Imposed upon myself,
Back into the warm,
Before the cold steals,
My fingers ability,
To dance with the words,
A tango,
A drugged grind,
Yet indomitable,
In answering the call,
To dance but now,
I walk in,
Coffee and air blue
Thick with smoke,
So, freed at last,
I begin to write.
MB Blissett 