Mourning

time stands still

in my putrid

morning box

a show

a cave

where all acts

are frozen

i let hours crawl

and songs repeat

dreams crash

so that i

needn’t get up

and see to my list

mornings

feel separate

my room

a compartment

sounds escaped

feel like messages sent

to another dimension

giving me away

do not wake

my deaf

and dumb

morning

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