Faint yellow light,

engine running smooth,
He sits.
humming.
humming.
humming.
Where do you go from here?
The ink is irreversible-
swimming in kaleidoscopes of eyes and mouths and hands.
Placid, pale blue in the rain,
towers fall,
lights color the pavement like rivers of gold and red,
dissolving into one another.
forget.
forget.
forget.
How?
Home is where your head is,
he said.
Bluer.
Stacked in timbers,
wisps of amber hair
streaked across the pillow where
his sister used to lie.
Shallow.
Shallow.
Shallow.
Like his heart.
Pink and lavender rooms.
Steaming kettles and empty pots.
Rotten oranges.
Dusk and dawn and the pale glow of morning.
Dragonflies resting on the windowsill.
He stands.
humming.
humming.
humming.
Chewed fingernails
dried and flaking
raw and shaking
heartbeat like a thousand moths wings.
Flutter.
Flutter.
Flutter.
Stacks of paper, dried out pens.
Brittle amber hair
caked with dust,
fanned out for all to see.
scars and bandages
her smiles were always real
she never knew him.
Home.
Home.
Home.
The pots
The timbers
pink and lavender
rotten
bluer
amber
raining
drifting.
Home.
That is where his head is.
Is there nowhere left to go?