I swim
through the ocean
of my own consequence
one I've  forged
with my own neurons and
feeble synapses.

I traverse
this plane
existing as I do by
the seat of
my own trouser legs
frayed edges show
only in the closest
of light.

I float
Backwards in my own
consciouness, my
existance a waking
moving riddle
my own eyes,
the eggs
on the skillet of
this reality.

this constant
cosmic breakfast is
a mystery to me...