End

I hear the sound of actors on the set,
one ear pressed to my mattress while my arm
is bent protectively around my head;
my breath is even, deep, reflective, warm.
The noise of words distracts my reverie.
Deep inhalations fill me with regrets.
Deep expectations void my memories.
The play is done; the actor soon forgets.
I contemplate the sheets for lack of sleep
and dream of acts to play with words obscene.
Alone, I place my head upon the heap
of everything the metaphor might mean.
Then silently I pull the words apart
and let the curtain fall upon my heart.

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