in moments of clarity
the rarified air seems to envelope my consciousness
sending my thoughts reeling into an abyss of non-specific tangents
grasping at imaginary straws
in an open attempt at understanding
the multitude of voices –
surrounded in an empty room
the unsureness creeps in slow at first
like the lightest snow accumulation
on a slightly warmed roadway,
then at once faster
as if it were a waterfall carrying flood debris
a tumbling torrent of sounds
all from within –
unable to separate reality from the inner din,
I take the shape of a fetus
rocking to the rhythm
of voices no one else can hear –