While you were sleeping

I painted my toenails electric blue and tap danced on top of my mattress. I roamed the hallway seven times then pressed my face against the front door to check the world was still there. I rolled a cigarette, smoked it through a mouthful of pirate chocolate and wondered what I would say if you were here right now. I might say Don't turn off the light, don't cover yourself in blankets, don't push away that hollow place. I like to sit here in silent wonder at the crossed wires of my imagination. It is a necessary torture I might say with a sweeping hand and a downward glance. But all of you are sleeping while I sit and dance and paint so I have pulled out the stops of imagining and all of it is just for me.