Curtains on my wall

The curtains across from my bed are like the bellows of an accordian. They breathe like a man in the hospital on a resperator. In and out slowly. Like the tides on the shoreline. In and out. Sucking onto the screen, then falling away only to be sucked back out onto it. Shadow plays out on the fabric. The light cresciendo's like the waves. It's color is a golden beige. Like a warm manila, or maybe dull, rather. The bellows at the top come to a point like a Russian castles towers. and inbetween shadows at the top of the curtains there are little bulbs of light, that make a pattern. The sun freckles through the curtain like spotted pointilism.