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The Longest Improvisation


Meaning had fallen off

the words. I peered into

bathroom mirror

through hesitant

steam, wiped away

to expose

an expected face, different.

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

and the mouth’s corners stretch unilateral

to touch the walls. I, so flat

the eyes gape backwards.

Limbs thrown over,

the longest improvisation, we

lie together, cadavers. A map.

An empty dawn congeals

above humidifier, hum and ire.

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