I could hear a pin drop.

No, a ball of cotton lightly float and touch down.
Upon a silk sheet.

A speck of dust land on another speck of dust thousands of light years away,
where the colours are inverted negative,
and creatures communicate in a way that doesn’t require poorly worded drunken blurbs
converted into electrons
travelling from one annoyingly loud metal chip to another.

I can hear the electrons converting
and I can hear them laughing at me.

I am a speck of dust upon a speck of dust.
Ungracefully, heavily falling onto my creased sheets.

Alone.