I get out of bed, slowly, numbly
The morning dopamine has not kicked in
In fact, I have no sense of it 
I sigh … that’s never a good sign
It’s going to be one of those days again

I turn off the AC 
The gentle hum that had filled the spaces 
Where my happy hormone should have been racing
Stops. 
I blink slowly  
I look at my bedroom slippers 
Their shadowy forms 
Like yesterday’s leaves
Plucked off by the breeze
Lie on the ground 

I get up and look at my curtains 
Drawn together like knitted brows
Beige-blonde brows in a frown
Censorial, dragging down
I can’t bring myself to touch
Those sulking folds, 
To draw them back 
In the ritual 
Of morning time

I sit on the stool in front of my dressing table 
I look at the woman
Staring back at me 
Barely visible, her outline perseveres
Reminding me that I am still here
I watch her for a while 
Feeling nothing - vacuous space
And then - 
I see something glimmer
At the back in the mirror 

The prism that I had hung up 
A vestigial piece of love 
From a chandelier that has long since 
Ceased to grace the space above
Had caught the first ray of light 
That had tried to flow
Into my chamber of shadows 
Teasing, romancing it
Holding, embracing it
In all its radiant rainbow hues 

I turn around towards this scene 
Of sudden brightness 
I get up, pull back the curtain 
Just a little bit. The colours
Fall in shimmering streams
Across my feet
I lift one up and then the other
I slowly dance with the rainbow of colour 
My blood gushes warm, I have to smile
It doesn’t seem like another dog day after all