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23 March 2023

Posted by Lawrence Nicholas

Thinking in-quiet, after the fire

I don’t know how these words will land 

in this digital matchbox, my brain 

aligning at last after a day spent on ailments;

why is it brainwaves provide surf at impractical times?


Perhaps because they hold to their own time?

Or, perhaps, because this body’s never been usual?


These, perhaps, are the ‘right’ hours to breathe 

and I’ve just been living back-to-front 

for nine-tenths of my life. 


I suspect the truth lies somewhere between. 


There is no ‘right’ answer, only the current wave. 


I can see the sky, single syllables at a time, coalescing into something I recognise: 


This mode of being, living on the edge of subconsciousness, feeling every thought as it bursts into the physical world, 

this is what I have chosen. 


This mode of being, living on the edge of subconsciousness,

it wasn’t always easy,

this is what I have earned. 


After years of refinement,

I am a subconscious artist;


I no longer fear myself.

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