Tumult Vacuum

Today,

I wake,

mirror,

a me I've never seen,

no longer,

scaled in sequins,

hovering on tequila and curry house menus,

slipping from profound conversations,

into the caverns of silk,

and amethyst beneath my eyelids,

rotating gently,

to the outer reaches of the universe,

then awake, washing off,

the cleanest one could feel,

out of the shower,

I see myself,

reflected,

in the shards I tried to glue together,

with hope,

kindness,

and nice cooking,

Today,

I wake,

just a mirror,

and me,

in a house,

the most loved one could feel,

but now,

such din, 

drowning my overture,

rhythm of galaxies,

that which used to deafen,

Today,

I wake, 

with love,

belonging,

except,

so many melodies,

arrangement,

can't emerge,

think,

tubers will penetrate soil,

when last social frost,

over,

I find a place for my nebula,

to flower,