oil slicks and webbing

there is an
oil slick
on the coffee
that prevent my lips
from cracking
the amorphous shell
between waking
into another hell
or struggling
to find solace
in five minute
where dream
is an elastic band
around rusty valves
in cardiac distress

i woke
looked for you
realized exactly
what new fuckery
was being imposed
by reality
then stubbornly
drank coffee
while glaring at
the ever brightening sky
heartshivers trembling
over the invisible
silken web
that connects
her wonder
to my sense of awe

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