Sometimes

Sometimes
I clutch
At fragile twigs
Grasp hard
Struggle
With a
Futile
Pretence
Watching
The flickering
Kaleidoscope
Of lies
And peat.

Sometimes
I confuse
The bright reds
In the sunlight
With
The ribbons
I saw
When I
First
Opened
My eyes.

Sometimes
The warmth
Creates a
Transient amnesia
That lulls me
Into
An irrational
Joy.

Sometimes
I find myself
Stepping
Across
Algae-coated
Stones
In water.

Sometimes
The forgiveness
I believe in
Colludes
In the silent
Re-writing
Of histories.

Sometimes
That
Makes
Me
A
Collaborator.

And sometimes
I cannot
Sleep.


---Jib, 2:26pm, 10 Feb. 08

At home, wearing a chunky jumper even though the sunlight was overheating my body.