And from the throes of deepest slumber,
Mine body was awoken as a viscous smoke
oozed under doors, through unconscious
splendour, polluting their peace with prickled
corruption, an oppressive tyranny over the senses.
A window yet provides deep solace to mine
fired-filled flesh, flung open, shifting spheres
from private longing to civic determination,
A cool wind kisses my strainèd brow, easing
tension that rises from my heart, a heart whose
beat wishes to reign over time by killing me
with anguished speed and by setting a new pace for
the fastest ticking clocks. Oh! my breath is but shallow,
as a temptress wind splashes ephemeral relief
upon my furrowed brow. The reviving draught
is but medicine for my disobliging body.
Breath imbibes, percolating lustfully into my
being, drinking deeply, I gulp the crisp, snow-
filled air. How I long to be floating in the aether
among the burning-cold stars, the curd-like
moon, and the lone bird, who, too early, looks
to sup upon the worms that will turn my
tempestuous body into soil.
©Kat Manica 2017