|World Wavering Away|
The windowed wall let in
a tangerine, acidic light
sizzling through the powdered
foundation on the room.
A plastic tree dripped a citrus-
like pungency, emblazoning
the waxed apple green of the leaves,
and the sharpie black cracks of bark.
A peach-fuzzed orange rectangle
crept along the carpet,
Glinting with twitching stray strands,
and levitating luminescent dust.
An odor of rotten, brittle paper
hung, bundled like a pillow, in the air.
Sewn through it, was a chemical stink.
Careful crinkles through piles of leaves,
and rapid taps on keys were
thunking out of and plunking into a
glass-still sea of breath blowing
from vents above.
My legs were folded dead,
cradled over the table, like
robust vines wrapped on a roof.
My chin was burrowed into my chest.
Camus rested on my lungs.
My eyelids fell to a neon-orange glow.
The world I don’t know
soon drifted off completely
on the winds of the vent,
to leave me with only stains
from its substance.
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