I am found
as a body of keys
with no sound sleep for an age

the linen, gray upholstery
lying under me
riddles ways of how I may change

And I stay vexed
by the panoramic views in my head
and finding rhythm to these foreign days.

I'm leaving
I'm going

Colors break and bend the ways our visions take hold of our eyes
and no one needs to know
cause with time
it carries with the tide

I’m sinking
I'm going