Morning’s breath 

snakes down my craned neck, 

a crisp swirl

of whispers ashen and remnant

cloud and coagulate

alongside my clavicle, 

the hush of early-today 

sticky warm 

and sickly sweet 

with dream ramblings

that wriggled between unbrushed teeth—

their stories dig cavities, 

soil crowns. 

 

I feel 

sunrise gossip 

build cumulus clouds

under my chin

threatening, pulsing, 

its promise of storm—

a noose lifts me 

to a wakening sky. 

I watch the day turn 

between gradients of grey.