lying in the sun is the most self-destructive thing we can do

a chance at a slow death

melanoma

a chance at a quick death

burning skin

sizzling like bacon in a pan

fat rendering

hairs crackling

a pile of warm bones

 

there are crumbs in my bed

because sometimes i make sandwiches in bed

i have a table

but sometimes i make sandwiches in bed

which is to say:

i literally cannot make it out of bed

to make sandwiches

so i make them in bed

 

the most beautiful night i ever spent

was when i realised everyone else is as lost as i am

and in that mass delusional panic

swirling like a typhoon

we were united

in our singular need to know why

and while many will never make sandwiches in bed

or lie in the sun hoping for a solar flare

or a mole that changes colour

those whose fixed smiles sit false like paint on a canvas

will never know what the lord holds for the lonely