DAY 3

It comes on like a fever;

Sudden and intense:

I’m turning in on myself;

Like an article of clothing;

Stained and ready for the wash – soaked, rung and tumbled;

Well-worn, and soon to go out again;

How many more times still uncertain;

Weakened edges;

Thinning seams;

Yet conforming to the figure;

Enshrouding the collective:

Flashing slides of then;

Sets of variables;

High-speed

And slow motion;

Colours wed to sounds;

Tones feeling pain;

Feelings stained by colours;

Inward turned out;

All floating in it;

A suspension of Self;

And when the sun begins it’s slow descent,

Another respite is warranted…

Day 3 is my girl.

Jon Mychal — Toronto/June 8 2010