“Let me go!”
and I run
into the shadow
my feet
licked by the darkness
of the entrance
I run from fear
a present
that tears at my covers
pries the dusk
from my eyelids
it breathes
upon my lobe
whispers into my night
“Fear not”
and my pulse
is buried in pillow
I claw at the seams
of the night
searching for light
a glimpse of freedom
across a threshold
of dark
I run from what I see
into torment
“Why can’t I move
backward?”
toes scraping
the concrete lid
20 pounds of feathers
my sarcophogus
etched by my trapped
toes
I writhe
droplets of breath
settle on the fabric
press back against
my naked
suffocating
skin
sliding, slithing,
shivering in escape …
I plunge
headlong
a fish gasping —
a cough —
for food
plunging back
into the cold
emptiness of
my tomb
feeling it walk
over me
and my eyes
stare awake
at the glow
under
the open door.