When it Has To Be Right

ethereal light shimmy

protruded through pale drapes,

my aches as moving from bed

to floor,

mouth dry tongue stuck

and contorted,

folded into some origami,

a dream shelved

some fragments hinted

at a vividness by spangling

in my conscious,

today would be different,

all ideas of what would be

had silted and taken ferment

for me to sift and filter

in an abstract way,

and collect my thoughts and speak

ignore at the time the cacophony

of voices that had alternate advice,

she would be exquisite as usual,

the dragon of my yearning

would have to wait,

until that moment of coda

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