impossible to differentiate
a dark morning
from midnight.
throat enveloped in flames
lungs billowing
mind on a train
i've drugged my sleep-
Night speaks,
and my mother whispers on the telephone.
charcoal sticks to my hands
pressing weight
leaning on walls
leaving traces as I touch it all.
tough grip on reality
elbow running red
scraps of skin
spreading palms
see me sweep crumbs
off the table.
casual sparks
stream by my window
and I see rain
and the transparent clouds
who gave you away.
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