There is a man. He’s asleep. Out there.
A black waterproof.
A dark birthmark where an enlightenment spot might go.
From the distance I am from him I can’t see him breathe.
To me he is dead.
How would I tell the difference?
His arms folded on the yellow table. His head rests in the corner of one arm.
I bet he has a mark on that arm when he wakes up.
If he wakes up.
I hope he wakes up.