long after turning off
your monster tv set
you still seem to see
at the screen center
a bright dot of light
a stubborn full stop
forgotten to put at the end
of a rambling run-on sentence
made all in a maze
about love and/or hatred

with a wet mop of history
you try to wipe it off
yet it refuses to vanish
like a primordial black hole
sucking its own surface inside
as it grows larger, rounder
and blurred instead

trying harder to stop it up
you squeeze in your coins
books, plantpots, photoframes
sofas, shoes, finally clothes
and everything in hand
but only to be thrown out
right on the spot

frustrated and desperate
you jump your entire naked self in
with your heart and names alike
until you become one dimensional
losing both your mind and freedom
senseless