In the dark room, air blows
Around my still body.
I become too aware of myself for comfort-
I see the outline of the window.
A square shaded by darkness
Surrounded by an even greater darkness.
Nothing is clear but these darknesses,
Of which I am the center.
Space makes no apology for depth.
There is trust between the space
And I- that even when I wake,
Everything will be as it were.
Whatever happens in between
Is not my business.
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
In the dark room, air blows
Around my still body.
I become too aware of myself for comfort-
I see the outline of the window.
A square shaded by darkness
Surrounded by an even greater darkness.
Nothing is clear but these darknesses,
Of which I am the center.
Space makes no apology for depth.
There is trust between the space
And I- that even when I wake,
Everything will be as it were.
Whatever happens in between
Is not my business.
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