The solitude
of the hour sits in silence.
The slow
penetration of crisp air chills my throat
as each inhale
delivers me anew.
Bundled under blankets,
I lay motionless.
My fingertips pulse
the tone of my heartbeat,
reminding me
I’m alive.
If not for its
rude interruption, I would have forgotten.
Wish I had
forgotten.
The minutes
dance slowly across the ceiling
as I watch them
wave in mocking gestures,
taking their
time to stop and pity my motionless hull.
The sun has
taken her leave and the moon fears to approach
despite the
cloudless sky.
Black of night
engulfs the silent city,
as if someone
reached down from the Heavens
to pinch out
the irritancy of candlelight’s
and strangle
every sound until the streets were pin drop still.
While enveloped inside
this room on a bed built for two,
I acquaint
myself with loneliness,
except for my eyes whom weigh
except for my eyes whom weigh
with the memories
of one score and five.
