I'm a giant tonight,
stretched out in a chair from the 70s (and one feels it)
ribbons of red, flies can smell it,
white face and ankles,
closed eyes, a droopy expression.
Universe, I breathe you.
You have exhausted me, extracted from me
at last; now, at last
you will let me
sleep.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 3:24 AM UTC
I'm a giant tonight,
stretched out in a chair from the 70s (and one feels it)
ribbons of red, flies can smell it,
white face and ankles,
closed eyes, a droopy expression.
Universe, I breathe you.
You have exhausted me, extracted from me
at last; now, at last
you will let me
sleep.