just getting in a rhythm

like a slow train,
like a saturating rain,
like a dull pulsing pain,
beneath the skin, and deep in the veins,
just enough to know its there, but barely beyond.

poised with a heavy pen,
what I want for myself and where I've been,
leaking a moment or two before the sun's down,
simple and profound,
beyond the gates in an outlying town,
to prove nothing bu
t
what will not lie when the body sleeps
all that won't find it's way into the pillows' deep,

the greatest fears and dreams,
in the 'half-minds' and 'almost theres' while the shadows creep...

these parts seem never too rest.