It's the feeling of still air
of despair--
how it creeps
up
to chill her tongue
and paralyze her legs
into a coma-
tosed state
of routine and a life
lost its shimmer

There's nothing to sparkle,
(no sun to illuminate)
anything
under her covers
and she can't feel
any
warmth
because she is stagnant there,
even past the suns peak
and into the dead
of night

She is stagnant there--
somewhere
where sadness calls her sweet
name.