void

the chill rode the currents
to a distant land
leaving the jacket
for a brief innocence
cast and hung.
lying in the furrows
the passing moments of warmth,
but for what it’s worth
I fell.
upon waking on
a bed of chagrin
the jacket, now draped
head to toe
colored with suffocating
blackness
buttons lay waste
replaced with glue and staples.
the craving hurled
to a dying dream.