|• i hunch on it
it's 1:31 — mignight— a rad pulse, and I
avert my eyes, unable to look at it.
my head's stuck — in-between glass
and thin curtain strings.
i sacrifice my hair. i did it.
like a salamander
on a rock, finding sunlight,—
i too, motionless,
took up my vigil.
but with no tool to staple
the image to the pupil,
i sit idle, in loss of words, my thoughts
diluted and scant
buoyant as steam.
my mind bare, snuffed,
its edges churned like silhouettes.
empty of insides.
[then on the windowpane] [see stencils of my hand]
[lightning comes] [perks me up]
