He only meant to lie down for a minute
But soon found hours passed by
The TV showed scenes from a simple script
A life of work, rest and repetition
A role someone else would take
He could no longer play of his own volition

He did not rise when the sun rose
He did not answer the ringing phone
The knocks at the door received no answer
In time the world stopped trying to reach inside
He did not know if he wanted the help
But he never tried to reach outside

He lay, surrounded by comfort
cushions and fabrics pressing deeply
no clear definition between fabric and flesh
The lack of pressure was crushing
But at last he had no role to fill
And he was free to be nothing

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