I fall back
on uttered words.

In them
I find comfort.
Like a spear
of newly birthed rays,
slipping silently
between complacent
drapes.

The warmth I feel
like love upon my skin -
wholesome and sufficient.

And the day matures
as do the words.

What used to soothe
now burns as hot as
the midday sun.

Draw the curtains.
Your mind isn’t yet ready
and is no match
for smouldering embers.

I tripped.
I fell on uttered words.

Here I am,
engulfed and cocooned
in heavy drapes.