MY TELEVISION SLEEP: sketches of reality.

PePa

She lies there dead

Dead yet so awake

Awake as her power is well put behind her sleep

Connected and in position she waits

For that click of power that will jerk her up

Yet for months have I denied her this

The very delight that is her wake

When I brought her in I loved her with a passion

The very first passion you give to a new found love

Or love I thought she was

Till all she offered was a continued repetition

Of other’s perfection or idea of perfection of life

Behind those four corners

She reminded me of how imperfect my life was

As I spent hours upon same in front of her

She continued to define beauty to me

In the “realities” of other’s choreographed lives

So I din’t have to go out there and live,

I could stare into her idea and watch from…

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