Tepid air and t-shirt sheets, I lay dormant, yet thoughtful As the wind of various methods Of transportation whisper in my ear From afar. My eyelids linger open, Burdensome, but somehow comfortable And I like my skin bare Whilst the wind floats on through. A dry cough keeps me awake, Like I have been in a drought For weeks, for months So rash, so longing. A full breath I take, but Always interrupted and A cool stream of waterβs Not a cure in the least. Tepid air and t-shirt sheets, I lay dormant and I like my skin bare.