Slow fade from pomegranate to yellow.
The bed you sleep in is a mess.
You find dreams on a mattress littered with clothing, bags, and magazine shreds.
Sleep long into the afternoon.
Pinpoint the problem. Go back.
Mirrors surrounded.
You have to look.
opened luggage parades itself around you... baggage
it's time to leave.
The flour like substance-stick on your palms, rubber gloves. That smell, that taste...
The paperless cut of an eye
The wince of a nail-less chalkboard
The anti-scrape of metal on metal
The cringe of an unspiral fracture
Somethings not right here.
Get up. get out. get up get out getup getout getupgetout GETUPGETOUT
WHITE OUT
The infinite sound of snow falling silence.
© m.f. /Roxywaters Jul. 2012
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