To the now abrasive material of the sheets.
I read a book and my skin had succumb to the sun.
And a restless sleep awaited me.
Surrounded by a halo which insects had penetrated,
and whose protection I felt more offended by,
than aided.
An uneasy sleep before me.
The almighty crack awoke me.
And the bugs were illuminated,
Suspended in their death grips.
And still.
And again.
"Are you awake?"
And again.
And ceaselessly.
I retrieved my camera. I folded my legs under myself
And observed my view from the window above my bed.
The bay would coyly retreat from the stark light
Which forcibly unveiled it.
Continuously.
I tried to take a photograph
So that I would not forget the vulnerable bay.
But those moments would remain only on my mind.
And there they hang to this day.
At least.
