So I’m lying low in a darkened room, ’cause…
All the kids’ bikes have only one wheel,
And the adults are one-legged at a distance
Or have half a face in close-up.
I’m reluctant to talk;
My tongue may be tied,
Tethered far from my meaning.
I can’t drive home.
I can’t see the road.
Head in hands; eyes closed.
Numbness prickles my right hand.
Too bright, too bright.
I can drive home now.
Running to bed
Before my head caves in.