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Michael J. Deslauriers

of

Toronto, ON, CA

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Every Morning

by

Michael J. Deslauriers

Every morning when I open my eyes, I die.
For a moment my heart stops and my breath fails me,
I lie still in my bed, hands by my side,
My soul escapes my body, hovers over me, then falls back in.

I want to scream when life finds me again,
Pumping the blood through my viens and back into my heart,
Hollow breaths I breathe, into empty lungs gone weak,
My mouth is dry, my eyes moist, I am completely lost.

Moments ago I was able to fly,
I soared through clouds that I thought I could never reach,
Squinting as the cool air hit my face,
My soul alive, my heart pounding, with no recolection why.

I knew who I was and what I felt,
But everything else was still a little distorted,
Everything except me, and her,
We were clear, her eyes, her voice, her touch.

I felt her as if she were there,
Lying beside me in bed, her body against mine as one,
I smelt her skin, kissed her lips,
And I was happy, for once again we were together.

Every morning I wake with a smile.
My first breath of air is the purest I will breathe that day,
My mind is clear, my heart full,
And for that moment, before I open my eyes, I am not alone.