Morning. Or So I Thought.
I pull pages from my mind.
And fry them.
Like skillets with no bottoms.
No sizzle manifests.
And the flame flows
flimsy and blue.
Uninked,
it cannot be destroyed.
And the simplest of ideas
falls into ash.
Refusing to die.
They linger.
Ghostly demons.
Mindless shells.
Bend on destruction.
The steam the wind.
Swirling.
Rising.
Raiding.
My brain is not trained
for this level of boiling.
It melts over itself.
A precious sauce.
Pressurized
to redress the muted tones.
Of my blistered lips.
A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published three collections of poetry: The Difference Between Shadows and Stars, Carrying Yesterday, and Cognitive Distortion. She has also published her work in national and international literary journals such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Writer's Gazette, and The Penwood Review. Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000191382454 and https://twitter.com/#!/poetess222.