Resting on his vagrant windows
the sun flickering pendulously in his head
the moist grime sticks to his elbows
splotched with morning sickness
as the draught dwindles under his festering breath
he had not seen the sunrise
until today
when he woke up from his occult dream
lying deflated and nailed to the floor
staring at the wet ceiling
that dripped with pours of sweat
probably off her breasts
and kissed the embers
of his deliquescent eyes
In his room like a submarine
lit
he wheedled himself
that she will knock on his door,
and illustrate how she gouged the plaster
do drop her love like
paper pins on his impressionable pillow
she
above his somber slough
all night long
stared at the floor she had flooded
again
with a drowning pail and ubiquity
of the frequencies she changed
beseechingly
as her confidant embarked on
his widowmaker
one last time


