Daniel sleeps with a closed fist
His nerves are shattered
"One day, I won’t wake"
"One day, they’ll catch me"
He looks at his watch, like he does every morning.
7:05 like every morning.
Snooze goes off for three minutes from nine, then he’ll lay for two, to clench and massage his wrist.. his fist.
He walks to the bathroom to brush last nights 2am meal, cigarettes and alcohol from his already rotten cavities, always looking over his shoulder in the mirror ahead.
Phototropism - growing towards the light.
A Poem For Swingers, A Poem For The Playgirls of The Universe.