Perhaps tomorrow I’ll awake sated and refreshed
all aspirations and unreasonable desires left at rest
and the twitches will seep out of my skin and into the couch cushions
and I will smile, sincerely and at peace,
at the sun and the rain and the wind and the cold
beyond the reach of fools.
And when they ask why, they will expect no word past my lips,
and when they ask tomorrow I will smile,
sincerely and at peace.
But today is a chill wind that spirals snow and rattles the glass,
a day among the souls of the cold and the lost and the stupid.
Perhaps tomorrow I will awake and instead find peace
in the irresolute end of all things.