lumiere
it is dark. it is still dark. there is nothing to get up for except the light. to draw the curtains aside and let the light in. i do not need to pee and i have no hunger. i lie still, imagining the light. is it a bright clear cold day or a wet overcast afternoon? no matter. i try to imagine the light and the light only; it falls through the window onto the walls and floor, fills the room like air or a bad conscience.