A Fabric Hurricane


Drowned in waves of cotton,
I rest my body.
Shut eyes, two sealed oysters.
A branch of sargassum, torn out by the shore.
Swallowing wrinkles of bathypelagic decadence.
Yet the mind remains adrift;
floating on a raft amidst the silky currents of the mattress,
that is the sea bed.
Sleepless is the night,
a fabric hurricane.

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