the room where I sleep now

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the past is a blanket folded on the foot of my bedpretty metaphor but for nowI sleep on a mattress on the floorcoccooned in my personal history tracing the past through crackslike veins, like riversin the ceiling of the roomwhere I sleep now a...

the past is a blanket 
folded on the foot of my bed
pretty metaphor but for now
I sleep on a mattress on the floor
coccooned in my personal history

tracing the past through cracks
like veins, like rivers
in the ceiling of the room
where I sleep now

aimless tendrils, spiderwebs
a map without a key
in the ceiling of the room
where I sleep now

rain pattering, steady
I follow lines without an end
in the ceiling of the room
where I sleep now

sun streaming in, bright
I imagine clouds against blue
in the ceiling of the room
where I sleep now

the past is everywhere
but it is not now, it is not here
it is imagined into every crevice
but it’s banished from the room
where I sleep now.

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