drifting off...

here in the darkness beyond the edge
of my queen-sized bed,
it waits to come to me again;
it appears, disguised;
but the smell of fear is identical,
as the smoke rings hang above,
lying flat on my back…
i rob the vagueness by transforming
it into love, into hate, into some
definable abridgement;
i roll it between my fingers,
around my mind,
counting time…it robs me of peace….
of rest…i embrace it,
press it deep into my psyche,
long for it until i can
want no more…but it remains
clouded, unrealized,
always present…

it pushes me away, crowding me into a
narrow room where i meet
her, moving, pacing…circling;
she is the one who
torments me, who stirs dream sediments,
clouding my sub conscious
with inky, half-realized images…

but she is only another abstract,
a means to define this divergence…
my smoke fills the room…the clock ticks
unmercifully…eternally,
reminding me at last that nothing
waits for me…

drifting off
ja allen