I
the corners of a room
where walls shake hands
paints meet but never bleed
or stretch across the angles in uniformity
illusions that my palms see through
as they move to flatten the creases
making little triangles between them and the cobwebs’ Eden
like unfolding my bed on the couch
the only comforter here after the lamps say Goodnight
before I tuck them in
and the colours give in
blend
II
my makeshift mattress made specifically
measured feet to face ashamed in wake
protruding shoulders sanded at the edges
obtusely protracting the day into a never-planned night shift
midnights
where the hard-numbers and for-sures fall for the vicious
vacuum’s seductions
a Succubus, is the lady moon
for a mind weary and wary of
absolutes
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
I
the corners of a room
where walls shake hands
paints meet but never bleed
or stretch across the angles in uniformity
illusions that my palms see through
as they move to flatten the creases
making little triangles between them and the cobwebs’ Eden
like unfolding my bed on the couch
the only comforter here after the lamps say Goodnight
before I tuck them in
and the colours give in
blend
II
my makeshift mattress made specifically
measured feet to face ashamed in wake
protruding shoulders sanded at the edges
obtusely protracting the day into a never-planned night shift
midnights
where the hard-numbers and for-sures fall for the vicious
vacuum’s seductions
a Succubus, is the lady moon
for a mind weary and wary of
absolutes
