Hedda Roman
Wet Closet

Sky breaking, clouds falling,
Hesitant rain.
The musty smell of wet clothes
Permeates the air.
Mold begins to form,
The color is night.

Pathos and Dataplasma intertwine,
Laplace's fiend lurks around.
Draconian claws crackling on foil.

Duotone moonlight smoothing
A pale reflection of his grin.
His twisted eyes are flaunting tears
Of secrets kept and spoken wis.

Shades unfold,
His being spills over his will.
Determinism stands in the rain.
As the light expands through the slit,
The closet creeks.

Next morn, a desert:
The hanging cloth dries
In the solar gaze.
The closet is closed from within.
We laugh together,
Two flies on a score.