2020-03-31T01:28:58-07:00August 3rd, 2016|Creativity|

The birth of an idea

It happens every time
an idea needs to shake
out of me

I feel it growing
blurry and quiet
like an old memory

I start to snack
and scan
the online news

I pluck my eyebrows
and check my phone

I hover around myself
a dance of distraction

knowing it will scuttle away
if I look too close
too soon

so we play this game
the idea and me

like that stranger today
in the elevator

so intimate
to drop together
through the air
in a small box

but it’s rude to stare
so we pretend
it’s normal
to watch the walls

the door opens
and the stranger walks away
into the details
of his own significance

but not the idea

it grows its last limb
and falls into my lap

as friendly as the last one
letting me look it over
as if it was never hiding
as if we have been
tied together

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