I awake, and am still l.
Though just for a moment
there was no-one there;
a fleeting possibility
of otherness,
an unpausable poise
before the familiar
fall from grace.
I shower and shave,
the vessel of my waking
clouding with the particulate
matter of my days,
the sedimental brew of which
the heart grows tired,
brimming to a surface tension,
supporting a may-fly.