Sheets

We disappear in the folding of sheets
They whisper sweet melodies
Death and dying muttering under their breath
We are here to rediscover something
Drag ink over paper
Pin over skin
It comforts us
Like the whir of helicopter wings
We hear voices
They comfort us with their magic
It would be a miracle if they appear
Instead we have to sit and wait
Sit and wait
Listen for clues
Pick up crumbs
Line up sticks
It's all a game
But we no longer want to play.