The hand cries two
Sleep slips through solitude
Eyes closed
Mind open
Step over the line

Spinning but stable
Stumbling over feet
Stay grounded, please
Simple words, incoherent
"Sound blocks," he says.

Word refuges
On the red
Hand waves in mind
Movement felt
Covert and stealthy still

Lilys loiter
Vase and anchor
Shadows cast on door
Fingers gripping
Rhythms of heart

The figure down
Shaking with distortion
Chin skewed
Familiar face, not mine
Young friend,
Find an anchor

Palms on stucco
White houses on green
Place stars on canvas
Pick off petals

"Sound blocks," he says.