The Screen Stays Dark

I've picked it up four times in the last hour.

Put it down face-up. Face-down. The light

doesn't change. The silence has a sour

weight I didn't know an object might

have outside of a body. I found

a scratch in the table I've never seen.

Three years with this table. The sound

of the refrigerator. The screen

staying dark. I'm not someone who waits

well. I know this. I turned it over again

at 9:47. The scratch runs straight

across the grain of the wood and then

stops, like it thought better of it.

I haven't.