Apartment F204

I’m counting on the silent metal rods
they hold back the unwanted
one two three four five six
they hold back the outside
there are copies of copies of the insert
and one master that can fill any
a perfect fit for all
somewhere in the deep oblivion of a pocket

the clouds and the sparks
the deep unheard echo of
hammered steel
whispers a soft,
coughing,
secret of alchemy
to it’s bearer

I am tucked under down,
under down on top
of the Five-layer foam mattress,
leaning with as much weight as I can
against six small metal rods
those that hold back the oustide
birthed waist high up a doorframe
those that hold back the element
and anything that could take me from
myself.

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