Soft hands to skin,
My eyes close.
Pin dots behind my lids from the lights above,
Slowly I drift,
To a wakeful sleep,
I am aware of the soft hum of machines,
Back to breath.
A gentle zap,
Vision of colors,
From the deepest hues of Indigo,
To the cool magenta of smokey models,
Then to the neon green of new technology,
Transitioning to an oily yellow,
I dream of something,
It no longer matters.
Tears flowing down my cheeks.
I’ve woken up.