Regenerate

adrift in personal history

dead days gathering

against the borders 

of the miracle now.

lost both to future and past,

tense as a plucked string

thrashing its note into air

phoenix breathes deeply into 

yesterday, and with a hitch

and quiver, into tomorrow

past ephemerality

into blinding promise.

the past just a pile of

haphazarded rubble, 

only inevitable in repose.

sirens of tomorrow

call and promise

wait, they tell me, 

nerves grow back

like fingernails,

bitten bloody, measurable

only in words and waiting.

cauterized sentiments

still sensitive to touch,

the pulse of right now,

demanding breath and notice

and impossible attention

I’m here and trembling

in bright now.