Slipping away
As I sleep on a sloped plane, the wet concrete is becoming my friend.
I am surounded by it. It lives in the walls of this apartment. It fills
the air around us. There is more honesty in the smoke from the machine than in
most words.
There was a time when the flame was burning. When the overseer's commands
and the pace at the line, despite the pain they cause, were at least blowing
wind into the fires. But he days in the factory are over. Instead I wade through
knee deep sludge in a tunnel without light. Once you learn that the sump is
real, that it won't beat you but slowly exhausts you. That once you notice its
weight on your ankles, the way back out is too far.
I had left the night behind me, not knowing that Her embrace was what I will be missing. I had run away from the night. Now I cannot find the lights, as they are hidden under the cover of the sun.
- Brick