from my bed, i cannot tell if the clouds are moving to shield the moon or if the moon is running to hide.

i forget, and let my cigarette kill me softly.
i lay alone with death's cousin: for her to take me gently through another night.

my dreams of skin cells dividing, i watch their imperfections grow. i can hear the whispers of helixes unraveling....

fade to a childhood game of broken telephone. when it gets to me i can not help but cry. the little girl beside me,
she tells me the secret of my undoing. (and it passes on)