Cave of Clouds

My eye-covers whine with the weight of the morning
My jaw hole stretches and air is abundant
The world is gray-green and fuzzy
I cannot see my room

Color plods into focus, like the adjusting of a kaleidoscope
My eye-covers click like a beetle’s wings trying to remember how to fly

My warm cave shifts as I slide through it
I thrust away the puffy clouds and heat rushes from my body like sand through fingers
I slice my wings outwards, reaching, letting the rubber in my arms animate and
The springs in my neck crack and readjust
As I twist my brain-sphere in satisfying arcs

I am reluctant to leave my cave…