Before the Music Ends

Before the Music Ends

I dreamed

that I was old

and wept…

burning with death,

I took off my skin

hung it up

like a soaked quilt

to dry the tears.

Now where do I hide?

Where do I find

the music that makes

me solid?

My skin dangles

on the finger          

of a sweated doppelganger

humming yes, yes, yes.