day/li/lies

never waking

no

when the sunrises

i unfurl

i turn to the sun

as the morning mist

lifts from my creases

steam

rising

the spiders

have a home

and so do i now

in this

a single day

the ground below

a welcome grave

i am nothing

because

i

am not singular

my colour deepens

upon the wearing

of the day

but as the sun dips

no more orange light

in darkness

i hold strong

for a while longer

holding my pale molten flesh

against the cold air

then i begin to thin

papery

opaque

and i close myself

for the death

for the dying

of the day