She will come, you will come
It was just yesterday
We rolled together in that blanket full of stripes.
You had pounced on me, coming out of
your woolen grasslands.
A few deaths were assured.
A kill ought to be savored for four days.
Though it ended each day in a life;
in a hope.
I wanted to reach you
I wanted to make the grasslands, not woolen.
How I wished the window was a device
for my memory card.
Today I want you to arrive once again.
‘Adjust your shutterspeed’, my partner says.
As I don’t want to be murdered
by a dream once again
There you are.
Those stripes are golden.
How much I had waited for this.
You pounce but away from me.
Wait. Don’t go.
What are you doing?
Why are you following for a fading? Cries my partner
My partner –
the hotel room on the twelfth floor.
Book mine for room no 1111
the room has been sealed.