When I was a kid (and sometimes still),
i could reach and touch the walls
(and the ceiling) from my sheeted bed
– although this was impossible.
And then, with an advance unstoppable,
my bed, the ceiling and the walls
could all be touching me.
And somewhere still there was
(and is) the thrill of sleeplessness
unrest: the anarchy of the unreal
the remains of the dream
of when i was a kid.