muscle memory + fire nights

Today restarts a struggle. Not against but towards, not away from but to. I return to work. A balance and a muscle needs to be rebuilt or re-remembered between the analytical side of my self and my creative mind, wandering through ideas. There’s an optimism beneath these words. The struggle is of enablement and working harder for something I want has never hindered me. Tomorrow I begin a prose poetry course. Having that course now, at the beginning of a new job will hopefully help keep momentum. I’m often proud of the work I generate in a structured setting and look forward to tomorrow.

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The heat of the night is heavy
a discomfort
at my feet grumbles
an immovable object
Above through the skylight
the moon is pitched in red
When I inhale I inhale
a million burnt leaves
Fans hum unevenly
pushing air nowhere
air purifiers hum black
restless in the weight of the heat
somewhere south the world burns