The days blend together
in the way that coffee
blends with milk, and tea
with sugar

licking the spoon
clean, white spots
that blister
in your mouth

books stand around
like lay figures

two weeks overdue
and full of dead
things, creatures
that have nestled
between the leaves

insects
that have bitten
the dust

the pages are stiff
to turn, starched
spines that creak
beneath fingers

the days blend together
and I sit, drinking tea
between the cracks
and falling into words
I'll never read