A swan
And the dripping shower drain is my best friend
Grinding eternity’s soft face into rug burn
Hair whispers secrets into the feathers of a downy pillow
Watching intently every evening
As the remainder spills from the skull like a tea spout
Moistens a dream with tasteless poison
Shallow slices in the windowsill
Spell out a pitiful jargon
Only the deathbed can translate
Rising slowly for a last smirking remark
The bitter spit of fate
A moment outside of the skin
I wasn’t finished
