Still

Wake early, sounds of an island asleep drift past your window, it’s another world and you wish you could see it. One morning I sat on a roof in the Caribbean and spoke to the sunrise; everything was bleeding then but I think my skin has healed now; the scar tissue makes it hard to stretch like I used to but I am alive, I am still breathing into the sunlight and asking it questions. There are strange lines of color along my body, I had forgotten it in the melee, I am still here although I am further away than ever.

Open the door to the morning. See what comes of it now.