I awake with premonition. panicked hand skids for paperscrap to record the last moments of this dream of missing time. my bare wrist crossed with hers faded blanket bunched arm jackknifed round the front curled fingers over pallid cheek placed like the careful arrangement of a Japanese print as she breathes through chapped lips, so perfect. tender lids darkened, in sleep. you seem new. i want to touch with one finger the soft swell under your chin when you've lost all rigidity no more angles of attack with your head to the pillow. in the madness of morning cold wind from the window streams down the wall where someone's cat sticks fluffy black paws through a gap in the door can I peel away day to lay bare the clutched core? there's no time there's no time. you're driving home today. wake up, buttercup you're late I blink twice and you're gone. in my head like a song.