The Half Past

It was half past ten
In the broken clock
Light flooded from the bathroom
Vintage; as if streaming from another time;
A past not yet undone by dialysis,
I laid ankle deep in silk
The shawl around my neck and feet
Splitting me in two tragedies;
Naked and none, while
The feathers of my pillow whispered in their broken flight: “Do not close your eyes or all that you fear shall come alive”
There was something in those words
That left me speechless
And so I slept
Wide awake
Breathing only for breathing’s sake.

5 thoughts on “The Half Past”

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