Swipe of highlighter ink,
Bleeding past the blocky text,
Peach and mild, like
The flesh of fruit,
The skin of white man
With a fro’.
Fingers play the pages,
Like a toddlers piano concert,
Gossamer paper teared in
Their light dance, like the
Thrashing of a sail in the wind’s
Delicate embrace.
Mild instrumental tones,
Tick like a beating clock,
A timer that accelerates.
Pencil lead smudges up the
Side of the sheet, poisonous
as artificially purple-colored
Grape soda, staining the pale surface.
Blush to the fingertips,
prim as Rose,
scratching of the thorns
Catch in the knucklebones.
Brush the eyes, wish them shut,

Like dropping a baby to quiet the room.
Stretched gaunt across the lap,
A cat-ripped, pug checked sheet,
A mummy’s wrappings swirled
About the feet.
Clouds suffocate the sky,
Graphite growing on the side
Of a thin, white wrist.
Jumping, processing, mind in
Complete fits.
Ephemeral.
One.
Done.