Syntax

The lamp cord is a snake in the dark.

When I reach for it, my hand

hits the top of the stack—

a thick, soft fur of gray dust

that hasn't been disturbed since the move.

I haven't finished a chapter in years.

The phone is a hot brick in my palm,

humming with nothing.

A silverfish flickers out from the spine

of the book on the bottom,

a needle of light

sewing itself into the carpet.