What if there are no walls?
I quickly stand,
Suddenly not trusting
The solid brick at my back.

What if there was no gravity?
My hopeful thought falls
As my feet stay rooted,
Ingrained into the cold floor.

I stand next to the wall

Staring at its painting
It seems to speak

It's image running parallels
Alongside my thoughts.
With no discernible pattern,  
No reference to any pre-existing material,  
Just color.

The texture is smooth.
The occasional lump sprouts forward,  
Growing from the dent
Where the gasses
Had been trapped beneath the surface.

Held prisoner.
Without concious thought
Of what had happened to it.