There is very little left be said of the day, and I should
Be saying what-ever that is to my pillow. My
Restless eye lashes skitter across dehydrated skin,
Yawning deep within the everlasting tiredness that
Topples and bursts from my flattened lips.
A red tulip on a single stem. Ahem!
If evolution works, the seeds will groan with the
Abnormality of wings. Some may even learn the
Worth of fleeing; most won‘t. But some
may push up on gravity and science will not
hold them, typing
At a dull computer screen any longer.
The cat is sleeping. One paw folded over another.
The air is blowing shivers; all the pores which in turn
Tuck their tiny heads against my sides and
Cry. Cry for warmth and peace to sleep as
Tentacles from tree’s brush away the dustiness
And press a kiss onto the windows empty mouth.