the curl

i was reading a story
when my book melted like
wax over my hands.
suddenly, a deep heat seized me.
i stepped out of bed and
my feet sank into the carpet,
now a swamp of hot fudge.
the bureau yawned, it's drooping drawer,
sagging wads of socks
like marshmallow teeth.
the radio, looking like a licorice brick,
went wonky, bending songs into soup.
sour sweat soaked my shirt.
overhead, the ceiling got drips
that dipped into the room like gobs of honey.
i watched the cat cook down
into an orange and white paste,
until he was just a creamy
smudge in the muck.
my own body curled and squirmed like putty
and then i turned to face the bed
just in time to see
the whole thing blink
like a sleepy whale's
giant eye.