morning

the sky is just beginning to blink its eyes blue, and a lawnmower is vibrating itself awake. a tangle of branches shivers — it hasn’t begun to sprout leaves yet — until the birds come warm it up. it’s where they like to discuss their dreams. even the air feels unencumbered as it seeps in and out of my window, kissing the screen as it goes. i try to count to two hundred before picking up my phone. it feels important to watch the morning sucking in every last drop of freedom before the world gets its thick hands around our throats.