The Darkness At Noon

In this my own midnight of temporary madness awash in the anxieties of fearsome chasing shadows the sheets are hot the pillow no longer cold on either side the clock switches gears rotates sideways...torques flips back...and then shakes parts spatter the blue canvas ...across the red screen a sudden vastness of wash and clime befalls me shearing me down down.... down into sand so deep I am Atlantis' lover fingers of time's hand flicker across my lost perspective move me...like ticking magma across the broken shells of my once so beautiful breakfast hour it oozes over dainty lunch...then dashes dinner plates confusion has fallen on this...my mid day mind...made me madder still than midnight and kookier than my lover can stand he groans audibly from across the house Where am I going now?...this changes everything the use of linen table clothes and plate sizes have ceased to hold weight and matter and this my lovely broken tea cup is no longer bad karma it is an old dear beloved friend from whom I never ever wish to be parted