Friday, April 25, 2025

just like that

anticipation sours. I occupy familiar shapes in dread or doubt. read someone else’s nonsense to escape my own. every sentence blurred or muffled by offensive thought or feeling. eyes closed pen on paper and a fragment of a dream: plead the angry man away from the last safe place. neighbour turning pages on the pillow over. dusk birds chirp to the rattle of cutlery in the sink and every sound that isn’t yours. I want to seal the space between with glass. trap the words before they go and play back over everything. timid rain against windows and someone washing dishes in the kitchen. master of none decrees nothing at all now (forever).

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