If I could express how I feel
At its most distant form
I would use three words
X-ray, Chair, and Notebook
An X-ray, because I feel cold
As I lay still here stripped of all sense
Whilst a thin sheet of cloth
Interferes with the light that was my spirit
A chair, as it cushions everything
Beyond this reality
For when I go out of my body
And choose to fall recklessly
A notebook, to which the fluidity of thought is censored
Brought to a structure much greater
Than the words I’d strung together
When I was with you
For the very first time
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