The ledge parts
on a nearly vacant room
one slight stool and thick table
tools to manufacture the daylight
one wig and drag dress
in an over painted corner
a heap of words
coagulating to the point of a spear
my perfumed and lacquered solitude.

Leaving books and films aside
to watch the fleeing clouds
over a bulb notched sky
creatures of the air
flipping and reaching.

Stuck to a zooming chair
vibrating by particles of water
blanketed like pencil lead
in the blade carved wood.