men, poetry, women

Sleeper

My life is not

Insulated against

Discomfort

And the balance

Of my strength

Sometimes feels

Overdrawn

But I am awake,

And the nightmares

Have been good teachers

The tests come in battalions

And I laugh them off,

I love with an amused

Mastery and I live,

Without expectations of

Shortcuts,

The wood still needs

To be cut for the fire,

Meat has to be hunted,

And here I find myself

Despite the redrawn maps

Of old aches and tender

Setbacks

I smile at the cruel mob,

Strong in numbers,

But weak to a man,

And cut through

Their number,

To seek you out

Baby girl,

Not for you to

Save me,

But to help,

Without expecting a parade,

I’m awake now,

And the day lost the battle,

Before I even

Showed

Up

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