Stop. Time is come slowed. The machine
is making a breath in me. I am aware
some people are panicking.
I sound like I am drowning. Stillness.
Still slower. Lights are beginning to flicker
and blink. A beep. Coming small.
Everything is turning inside out like a flower.
I can hear the atoms of sweat bead his nose.
A beep. These are ghosts. Shadows.
Dust and windows. Things there and not there.
Someone is in the room with you.
Someone knows what it is you must do.
They do not call it names. Death. It did not come.
Sterilise the theatre. We were not here.
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