scene change

[same character. different setting.]

Good morning, moon.

We have another few hours here, together,

as the chill of the weather

outside the window panes bites

my heart as if it were sitting,

out in the biting wind,

exposed.

It is true, you know, the part

about my heart

being exposed;

I can feel a certain

prick, prick

like a woodpecker

peck, pecking on the organs

inside my ribs.

I guess the bird isn't all that's trapped in a cage.

Nothing has changed, has it, moon?

I am still floundering I am still groping I am still slipping I am still waiting I am all but

still.

[the window may now be a mirror, though it may not be, as the gentle drops of water fall either from a source outside or from a source within the room's four walls]

Your light moves me

lures me

intoxicates me

Your light forces me to confront what I bury during your absence.

You create a lesion in me,

toppling me over the edge of my

mind as it

c r   a c k    s

and I feel

e ve ry

th r e  ad

f r   a  y   i    n g.

Insert stage directions here:

[Dim the lights slowly to black out]