Blurred star shards chequer through curtain and dirty pane,
coating rolled up bundles of randomly discarded skins.
The morning burns colourful, greyness and hazy rememberance,
beckoning a brief and dileberate counting of body parts.
A new mind taken into the day, cuddled by soft warm down,
daring the first uncomfortable decision to quit the womb.
Pull back, just once more the warmth, the repeated idiocy,
the evenings poison an ever present balloon of insurgency.
The god's have been summoned by pain alone, promises made,
they have heard, witnesses to the eves pageantry now lost.
Tighter are thoughts held in the soft shifting confusion,
long last the increased glow light reconstitutes reality.