The afternoon sun comes drizzling into my yawning home
My eyes become heavy with it
I retire to my room
Dark and cold
The only warmth here is familiarty
And I am happy under my bed covers
Their gray expanse covering my flesh and bones
I think deeply
Following my thoughts down
down
down
The scent of my hair
And stale cigarettes
Leave me peaceful
This
room is my
grave and this
bed is my coffin.
The motif of faces
at the front of my
bed creates a head
stone of memories
that mark were I lie
every night dreaming.
Honestly, I could not
be anymore peaceful
than when I am here.
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