My face is too hot.

The rest of my body is too cold.

An icy parking lot

A wooden sealing, sculptures off hands

And soft, blue fabric.

A window shade that could be hiding anything disintegrates to a floor of expensive rugs and reveals exactly whats supposed to be on the outside: the outside.

Nudged persistently by an unwannted aid, I fall into unconsciousness over my bedspread.

I grow colder