Laying on my back under the covers
Staring at the popcorn in the ceiling
The sun is peeking through the blinds
The dust is swirling through the air

Feeling the thumping of the broken fan
Breathing in the stale afternoon
The air is rattling through the vents
The pup is snoring through her dreams

Is the ceiling spinning, or am I?
The sun lady says, “Patience.”