unlit lava lamp

 
dawn is lazy in Houston this morning
amethyst hues are twitching from above the windowsill
and penetrating soft clouds of smoke
that have been coaxed by the easy absence of blackened stars
 
I wanted to be the change that fades last night
a soft secretion of pliable words
written for the sky in a foreign language
until I was ripped apart in multicolored splotches
and ultimately swept away by a thick zephyrs last breath
 
daylight now holds me in this moment
with quiet judgment thrust upon dust laden lips