three and a half hours of sleep

I speak into your voice
mail in all honesty
I allow the message
to evaporate I take
my time to craft a better
and more measured way
to tell you something pale
instead of randomly releasing
depth that you could choose
to hear or mute away
I take your temp
I pare a new place
with my depth of feeling
and I hope no trace
of it remains to show you
how unsteady in my gait
the child within me
starts to move upon
the unfamiliar ground
and slate