mornight

saturday. a minute after six

the gray light

formed luminous shapes

behind the drapes

whilst deathcab
sang a plead

through the speaker subdued 
by a caterwaul

                of aircondition

weary from letters, the eyes

and mind was near collapse

transcendental,

is languishing between

                time and space

                real and imagined

shadows and figures

what was for breakfast?

a glass of water, left-over bread

and cigarette, perhaps