I caught a glimpse of baby’s breath.
Bunches on top of bunches,
The air perfumed with small grains of pollen.
wafting in the air.
Somehow, rotten at the tips.
The ebb and flow of consciousness.
A trance, no breath.
My body sinking below the superficial.
Deep dive, no thoughts.
Where am I?
I hear a voice echoing,
Not a care in the world,
Suspended in cycles of transitions.