life-world fabric
drapes over my head
i can taste, yet
and eyes blink and
feel linen, and this is
trying to see
yes, the world is just
yes as close as my
own breath

to tear at the fabric
is to pierce morning sheets
with fingernails
and maybe wakeup in
a tent in the wilderness.

a sheet covered david
as they installed electric
lights at the accademia-
a momentary darkness for
humming lights.

eyelids open/closed
leave the glossy mags
to alleyway rotting,
to see
truth unclothed
like a veil never touched
my face or
hers
like she's celibate
and sober, marble-like
a girl cold-faced to
catcalls; beautiful
she is just
beautiful as close as her
own breath