Nighttime

Nighttime is here again.
I feel free and wild. My mind is open, my senses overflowing with the taste, sound, feel of the miraculous world around me. Everything is so much more than it usually is.
The cotton sheets on my bed press down on my body and caress my skin. They warm me but somehow they feel like chains, restraining me. I toss them away and enjoy the coolness of the air sweeping in from the window instead.
When I filled my red mug after brushing my teeth it was water pouring into it, as always. Now that I taste it it has turned sweet and peppery. It's texture is soft as silky mousse. I can't be water, but it is. It's wonderfully fresh, refreshing water. A true and beautiful potion in a red mug.
My shadow speaks to me. It weaves it's smooth whispers in with the music playing inside me. The cat's purring. I am breathing. I breath in. And out. My heartbeat echoes through the universe that is my room. Everything is music. It's a symphony. It's a nursery rhyme and a rock anthem and an immortal piece of jazz. It's a big hole in the world of nothing.
My feet are moving on their own accord. I think they might dream of flying.
If my right elbow hadn't been so heavy I might just flow away on this stream of heat and calm and tortoises.
I'm so drunk on impressions I can't utter a word. My mouth has moved from my face and has no wish of coming back.  It says that fried eggs aren't made to become hats. I agree. But I don't.



Strangely awake
I've fallen asleep
Reality made up in dreams
I wonder if nightmares
are scared of bright moonlight
I don't know I'm not
Yet the wasps are displeased
And I'm in the back
Let's vanish