3WW: Decay, Riot, Graceful & TOP: From Here to There

Morning surfs
into my bedroom
on a butter knife

in between the shade
and the window
creating a riot

of sun pixels
on my quilt,
prompting me

to get up
and write a poem.
But a heavy arm

imprisons me,
pulls me back
into graceful shadows

away from the light
and another poem
dissipates and decays

into scattered words
while I ride a wave
back into night.