Dissipate

Sleep falls apart in front of me
like a slab of concrete
broken and carried off
by hundreds of gray winged moths.
The moon trembles in this geometric
deconstruction, wrapped in the silver
of your voice.
Following fractured sound alone,
I trace the fragile architecture
of your absence
and try to remember wholeness

______________________

Michael Bagwell is a student at West Chester University where he is studying English and Philosophy with minors in Creative Writing, Film and French. He edits and is featured in the two university creative writing journals, “Literati” and “Daedalus.” His work has also been published in “Collective Fallout” and “Short, Fast and Deadly.”