Here comes the wave.
Black at it's heart,
a glimpse behind the moon.
The wind sound loud in his ears,
vision telescoping.
Eventually comprehending his feet out in front of him
and his hands still in his pockets.
Slowly identifying the sound as the shower running behind him (the room's filling up with steam).
He's somehow wedged himself into the small space on the floor between the bath-tub and the sink.
No comments:
Post a Comment