Saturday, April 9, 2011

When I am lying in bed at night

gasping for air and even the creases
in the backs of my knees are sweaty
the only way to sleep is to arrange my
limbs upon the bedsheets such that no
one part of my body touches another
count backwards starting with dry
ice and imagine I'm in a place that's cold, cold
cold, so cold that I bundle myself into
a downy silence pierced by the radiator's
hiss reminding me that snow
falls outside.

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