mozart inferno

a sweating fever in a sea of cotton inferno
sends a cutting shiver down my back
like your fingers when they traced my spine
the bowl of corn flakes lies stagnant on the bedside table
the milk has grown warm, and the cereal into thick, floating custard
clinging fervently the the dull edge of the spoon
the clock sends jarring ticks into my brain-
into the universe of this room.
what consolation i have left is a lingering melody
from under a needle, passing through wires and plastic
into the air, and into my ringing ears.
all the people- the ones i used to know
walk silently like ghosts on the paper that i write upon
the time we spent in each other's company
has been lost in the folds of these bedsheets i have tossed
in my heated slumber
and i am alone with just a fragment-
of a dream i just awoke from...

The End

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