in my winter cocoon
enveloped in sheets and blankets
my eyes closed all day
these damned windows,
seams of daylight break
through fiber,
try and force their way through slits and lashes,
i resist
pink lids, i won’t study and map
your capillary streams / birds, please don’t sing / i refuse to perceive anything but my own inlands
i don’t feed
i don’t drink
i don’t think
i don’t move
i don’t feel
i only let
Continue reading “transubstantiation”