THE WHITE HOSPITAL

The tributes have been – overwhelming. Everyone, has had something, to say. Some time, for kindness. A small time.

I can hear you. Hollywood. From the first hiss, I’m above you. Listening. The evening. I can hear … everything. Every small dying. A door, closing. An eye. Some other one, like me, extinguishing, in the white hospital.

It is now green in the white hospital. The roses, have shut. The leaves … are green. Tomorrow, they will be lifted. The gifts. They will all be taken, away.

It is quiet in the white hospital. The idolaters, have gone. The cameramen. There is no one now but the odd physician. The sick. And the patient.

It is white in the white hospital. The old sheets, have become new sheets. Tomorrow, there will be new sheets. Again. As white. And as clean.

Your dreaming … was never as real, as my dreaming.

I was young, and you were glimmering.

I was young.

I do not think I will miss you.

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