I close my eyes and watch the scenes that rise
My mind makes stories
for the sounds it hears —
A not-too-terrible retreat
from the bizarre intrusion —
Two heads intently staring down at me
Two pairs of hands with instruments employed
Where they have safely cordoned off
the messy natural functions of my mouth
My tongue sits under rubber,
too numb to do much.
Best to go under —
To watch dancers
And parallax of buildings’ walls
as I approach them
And flowing swirls of river water
Best to relax
into the yes I’m learning to lean in to.
Wake me up when it’s over.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 27, 2013
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