Curvy Yellow Lines of Night

open my eyes

peel back the early
layers of unconsciousness
to reveal morning’s fresh

flesh of bright orange psychosis

tasty with toast and coffee
tea or shattered shards of disappointment
scattered remnants of scarred relationships

lie in the road as I

close my eyes
to the pain of day
rays of confusion

leave me blind
only afterimages
flash in my broken mind

while I follow these
curvy yellow lines of night
leading me through this recurring

dream, stretching my endurance . . . as far as it will go . . . .