The black coffee reflects the vague shape of a little boy who thinks he's a man. It's rather off-putting, to be honest. Like the transition stage between looking too young to be considered old, but looking too old to be considered young.
He scrutinises this a bit more; his nose is swollen and kinda twisted.…
A river mirrors the sky
and a strip of life
sits in between
the middle of the blues
I was reminded
that my internal world
was never really private
because my external life
has always reflected
it back to me
and I’ve been in the middle
the whole time.
Before
I step out of the plane, mimicking its mechanics, and kick into my own auto-pilot function.…