The bed and keeps looking at
The fixtures of the room as
If they were not well fastened
And her attitude is sprung as
If she were about to make a
Move in space and imminence
Rules her that cannot converge
On momentum and her hands
Now flicker at the emergency
And rising activate the thick air
That sings close to her body
And the room's atmosphere is
Fuel to the filament of her nerve
As she works her mind in hand
And rises half urgent on one of
Her knuckles with an ear cocked
And is static and silent there when
An obscure sound falls in one of
The communicating rooms and she
Bolts blind and crashes incoherent
From the bed and goes to ground.
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