i stay up until i see movement where there is nothing. brightness scattered on brightness, bad smells and no place to walk. damp smoke folds in secret organs. towels imprinted with letters, red in a language i can't read. i pull the colour from my hair. veins bubble and pulse, but when i touch my skin i feel nothing. naked on a floor of brown leaves, hair and dirt woven over the drain. pour water on my skin until i cannot tell the water from my skin. glass bends the door smaller and very far away.
a half-assed job of shaving and my body folded into a prayer.