work in progress?

[paintedfish]

Today I stand thinking,

Thoughts of you creeping in.

Flesh and form

Bringing the carpet to my face,

Dust mites gnawing my brain.

I am watching minute snow drift

In the sunlight, falling

On the hot, plush landscape

That lays scratchy beneath my cheek.

My skin is crawling;

Maybe the mites got bored

With my hollow head

And have started to explore

The geography of my body.

Past the rivers and canyons

Of my face, on to the vines

That cord my neck,

Past the the caves

That make up my chest

And the earthquake

Residing in my stomach.

They find nothing

And I am lost again,

Watching the sunlit snow

On the hot, plush landscape

That lays soggy beneath my cheek.