I lie back
And watch
The light dance
On the wet
Of my eyelids,
I smoke
The damp
Winter air
And hum
Like a heater,
Stretching
The cramp
From my toes
As my restless
Legs quiver,
Daydreaming
Of a home that
Never happened
In a time that
Never was,
In a cloud
Of my own making,
In a soft
And humid daze,
Here where
Everything
Touches something,
Recoils then
Inches back,
Lost in
Staged transitions,
Deconstructing
Hindsight’s
Past.