Like dandelion spores blown through the air,
so go my atoms, which had been bound by
a dark blue blanket on a well-worn bed.
Now, spiraling unorthodoxy reigns–
plunging deep into a narwhal star well
as my lithium sleep slips further down.
Now, in the darkness quickening, the fall–
beatnicks that smell of wet lilacs ingress
upon hallowed grounds of stormy silence.
Am I enough intertwined ribbons? I ask,
the speed of sugary expedience.
Enough sand to devour eternity?
Breathless, the scorched sky, scarred by this longing,
stirs and seeps into my truth-stained mind.
I congeal on the mattress– and awake.

Michael Fitz-Gibbon has been previously published in CCSU's literary publication, The Helix, in 2007 and 2008.