Smooth Relation

6am: dawn fog folds me over and i slide into my skin again.
Sleep hangs on the apartment, 70 degrees. on my eyes in confusion.
Graceless stumble in full effect, I’ve been here before.
Quick history sets in and my senses register one by one, a smooth relation.
607am: Breathe.

Scramble

Swaying in the silent morning
to this high-tone scramble.
Tuned out in the background
with the window’s early glow.