Sheets - A Poem

fat, white sheets

held the carcass of my sleep

the old heavset snot not-dripping from my nose

rendering eary morning minutes circling

buffering

“die” yelled the man outside the window

rustling Opie awake he twisted himself back into a precarious knot

after a blink

i snatched my phone from the waist of the white sheets so as to scratch the curves of his outstretched hand with

eyes only seeing when the seeing is made square

birds chirped though

puncturing the mans yells

dyeing the words yellow

i’m realizing i dont know if i’ve had a sponge cake before

are they yellow?