Sleepless midnight poems (Session 17)
“There are quiet
calm days.
When I feel like
the air is getting
through my nostrils.
The nose is mine,
the air to my lungs.
I think I’m smiling
my teeth,
because it’s me
the one winning.
But they know
I know I
can be wrong
in the blink of an eye.
And my eyes
see theirs,
through the…