Drowning beneath a sea of linen,
thick folds and body heat.
Perfectly in the spotlight
of the street lamp
on the opposing side of a four sided
barrier with a transparent hole.
Illuminating the screen print of
a vintage Yale T-shirt.
Slicing through black, yet,
the corners are dark enough
to instill fear.
Everything is motionless.
Left with nothing more than a
wireless provider and my own thoughts.
A time for my
most beautifully, destructive thinking.
Reminders that life moves on
before you can tie your shoes
and remove the gum from its soles.
Accepting that people disappear
from your life as quick as they surface.
Realizing that I wrote the words
of this poem to distract myself
from the pain of thinking more.

Phil G. Steverson