it's dark to wake up in. been rain. dad would say preposterous i think. one of his words my mouth my brow mirror him say, preposterous and abzurd. rue the day. not to talk about the state or the state of the world nor domination but the sky all day looking, the sky all day looking. see what we do under the sky if we only look. we're just watching the sky today. it's come down to this there's no horizon the grey bleeds fog encapsulating towers. the wind  diminished. the sky still makes quiet. r. will be at hospice all day. the sky there too spread atmosphere quilted soft colors the inside skin a shell the body leaves, returns, leaves will leave again, the impressions the colors left of where the spirit formed the present. present, we were supposed to say when our name was called. i sat there a shell, the light subdued, internal. i sat there in class not there. not wondering where dad was, the tower by the river with the big desk and secret air. both of us naked under desks and no one else knows we're not there not yet come awake watching from elsewhere our bodies in built space.