Sunday, 28 October 2012

A Night at 12:47am

I lie on my bed, sideways, my foot on a bookcase
which cracks under the pressure of me.
The room gives the only light.
The water isn't running, they turned it off to fix the pipes
overnight. I wondered who'd want a job fixing water-pipes
overnight? I wondered what they did with the water
while it was turned off. I wondered if I was still paying for it.

I sat and listened to the hum of my life. The silence of life
is a hum. Like electricity. Either some modern principle
or some electrical synapse of my inner-vortex within my brain.

I listened to the house and heard it settle. Cracked its bones.
Lapped its mouth. Slept.
I listened to another sound as if someone was coming up the stairs.
Stood waiting outside my door. I knew there was no one there.
It was 12:47am. I heard the pull of a curtain.
There was no fear in me with this light.

I thought maybe I could communicate with the dead.
Ask it if it's worth dying. Or worth living.
The ghost didn't respond.
Instead I was reminded of you. This was not fear.
I can't pretend to hate you any more.

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