BLIND ON BUS
asleep, I roll and shake. could read a book on this thing, if not for the nausea. apple saved for later in coat pocket, half-finished film in luggage above my head. I'm dozing to beautiful drum beats, hood up. now we're jolting off the highway, turning down streets to the station. chocolate for dinner still on my tongue; I start to wake up, but open my eyes only to darkness, a few blobs of dark reds and grays. buttery mutating warmth; my sense is gone. sweat pills on my forehead and in my palms - my greatest fear realized - film finished above my head.
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