Resting in pajamas listening to roommates through thin-wall insulation. Dog barks. Pizza rising out of my throat, slices a way through chopped injection meeting hunger’s desperate other; sleeping with a dictionary prolonged between grammatical inhalation, each sentence; while walking back-and-forth the length of the space station.
It’s okay if interruptions are the norm. They cut in and out of the lens, binoculars, however finches keep entrances occupied with enough worms that it would be hard to drill through anyway; while a cymbal is touched with the dust a hand drops; space can walk with or without tree limbs for partners and parents for cloud-viewing house-cats.
Memorized by the swirl in the coffee. Heart-shaped. In need of falling in an oval and exiting by levitation, and this happens; currency, also the amount of electricity flowing through rivers of house-walls. Arteries and veins, stairwells, sewer drains, the sink, muscles and tendons. A facility for retrieving stored corn, bears the name of silo, and Silo gets up and walks out of its idea and merges into the wings of a translucent sapho-longwing butterfly.
Not much stored in transparent walls, except passages of neurological firings, (I can feel them), bridges born and fall to deserted patches of non-articulate assemblages, building and collapsing in the instant they are scene: wing-flutter; cast aside 4:51 pm sunlight, grey; roommates talk downstairs.