City

The stagnation of the city overwhelms me
And I collapse into a thousand bubbling thoughts...
Of newness
Of movement
Of home.
I swim to the surface, master of my shadows.

It is quiet now, and I am alone.
And I think: "how did I get here?
Here in this square-box shoestring-holder?"
Memory ghosts twist in strange directions.
Dreams; cobweb sawdust to line my bed.

The cobweb sawdust dreams sting my eyes,
Reminding me...
And I swim again to the surface,
To master my shadows.