station’s arrived, and the dust is settling
can’t see or recognize anyone’s face
the force, the instincts, the play, the dance
everything in now simmering down.

the nonchalance of stillness
the way the sky fell into my glass of water
and I gulped down a peace.

connections, guess-work, talking straight,
making things out to be more than they were,
fantasy-chasing being the point.

letting fatigue catch up, taking my mind off delusion.
things might well be in their rightful place.