While We Were Sleeping

Watching me, watching you. While we were sleeping the floor became sticky. Moist air from our breathing, old wood turned into soft wax dripping through to the room below. Shake my hand. Fly traps were brought with speedy delivery because more and more kept seeming to appear. How do they reproduce so fast? They manifest like a whizzed up train of thought, coffee boosted high cortisol energy; anxious spiral vs hyper productiveness. You can't put your feet down, it will envelop those duo operators. In listlessness, the chair becomes a heron. You sleep talk, you’re told it's gibberish but you wonder if sometimes you will utter your most private part. Reveal yourself! You will shed that skin, your sleep talk will unravel yourself and you will become another. We are all actors set. We are flies fit for sweet things. I’ll put you in water - something like rebirth. You can already hear the drip. A rhythm calling out for its kindred spirit. With one sock worn and the barefoot soon sticky. There is still an imprint from the body you wish to shake off and also the one you long for. These are not rocks. Imagine, a foot onto the sand. Actually, put sand on that sticky floor. Maybe then that stable ground you longed for can remain intact. Accumulating, we keep each other awake; watching me, watching you.