I can see nothing. Darkness
fills the window. My head
feels foggy, my body numb –
like waking up in bedlam.
I turn on the night light,
reach for a cigarette.
I remember a party, vaguely,
each face a phantom version
of itself, each figure spectral.
I remember a dream. The
streets were empty. Dark,
deserted buildings surrounded
me. Although I could see
no one anywhere, I knew
I was being shadowed
everywhere …
“Tick tock he loves me not.”
A woman sings a soft lament
somewhere in the shadows
of my cloudy remembrance.
“Tick tock my heart has stopped.
Tick tock tick tock.”
The smoke from my cigarette
floats above my bed like a spirit,
and softly disappears into that
shadowy space between here
and nowhere.
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