Tumbleweed

by P. A. Levy

after…

laying there
in the sound of your breathing
looking up at the damp stains
in the ceiling

to where bluebottle carcasses
dangle in webs;
exclamations
above long protracted

pauses. Yet everytime
I tried to speak
in crept
the moment stealers.


*http://www.cluelesscollective.co.uk/