I hobble out of bed at daybreak an Igor with dreams of being both doctor and creation, waiting for just one spark, juice enough to fuel that night's creation.
Excitement looms on this horizon pregnant storm clouds heavy with rain, whipped overhead by hurricane winds, ready to strike, incite the dead to life.
Petrichor coats my tongue, fills my head, lightning flashes, blue-white channels blaze down these rods to these hands, fire enough to burn, birthing this beating heart.
My blood boils, my eyes open.
#
*Thank you for visiting my writing blog. I hope you enjoyed the poem! If you’d like to read about its creation, I will be dissecting it next Friday on my Patreon.
If you would like to read more of my writing, I will be posting once a month (both here and on my Patreon) for the foreseeable future; I’m concentrating on my next poetry collection, as well as writing a novel.
