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