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Just for the day, just for one

Inconsequential flicker of a human day,

I wish the drapes would fall

Over the sun. My cold skin

Is a confession of that life lived,

Chewed and then spat out.

The results are always floating

In the same stale air.

Them lovers suffocate in that air

With their skeletons rising up.

And jumping out of their skin

To chop mine.

This laser vision puts their souls

Alight and bare before me.

Stopping to gulp it down –

Wight of truth,

Cognition traces reality like

Sketch marks around coins.

Their eyes are conspicuous; ears

Brimmed with fake labels;

Skin glowing with marks of

Ownership. Seeing them move

As their truth winks at me

Gives papercuts on my brain;

A rawness campouflaging its surface.