The Longest Improvisation

 

Meaning had fallen off

the words. I peered into

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bathroom mirror

through hesitant

steam, wiped away

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to expose

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an expected face, different.

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The mattress began to cup

my body like a soft coffin, in the stillest

moment of morning when eyes lay flat

even sink within the skull

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and the mouth’s corners stretch unilateral

to touch the walls. I, so flat

the eyes gape backwards.

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Limbs thrown over,

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the longest improvisation, we

lie together, cadavers. A map.

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An empty dawn congeals

above humidifier, hum and ire.

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