Metamorphosis N I turned to sand on a morning That did not s | mr express
Metamorphosis N
I turned to sand on a morning That did not seem auspicious in any way. Lazing in one chair and then another, Bothered by nothing But that tingling around the tongue Like when mangoes could’ve been riper, I permitted myself to whisper onto the floor In five silvery streams of an hourglass: Fully clothed man one moment, pile of sandbags – the next; A perplexing sensation of ease. Look for me under your floorboards. Try not to sneeze.
