winter

southbound train

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Winter sun always low

always melting pools

of yellow

always on your way out

stick

around for once ?

let’s

make one of these count

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Bedroom Stories

(see also: hiding)
Bedroom stories

Folded away in here the dark is almost warm.

It almost

wraps itself around me.

It almost

calms the rioting flesh.

But it’s not enough!

Scraps of lint pile up in corners where I can’t see them.

Feathers roam the air where I might breathe them.

I hope my eyes never adjust to this half light.