beet/blue

If I’m lucky there’s a blue light bleeding into the edges of my brain. Ears do something, and then do something else. No, this is not what it was supposed to be. I could say “head-of-camel”, but that would be a lie, it’s a mask the color of desert storm camo. I don’t know what to do about that. No, really – any of it. Instinct is extinct. I’ve made a drawing with black marker on white paper. I made a sound with my body. I ask you not to call it anything but hoist. When the most engaging question I can think is, “What will I do tomorrow night?” My best friend may never take another drink. Tomorrow I’ll learn to make another sound.