Summer paint walls, and electric dimmed lights,
made pale mustard blush of the air,
its shadows all edges blurred,
indistinct and wan.
And the fire, menacing save
for the amber and red it winked,
and the flame glow of its heart,
just visible, graciously sparing some of its heat,
as its beat slowed to ember crackles.
Timid noises hovered, seeking entrance
to my mind. Voices, glass chinks and every
now and again a bolder laugh.
They could not stay, and were reduced to
background hum by slowed body, and
I knew they were talking about me,
laughing as I dozed, eyelids not shut,
but not open either.
But they did not know,
could never feel or appreciate,
the bliss I felt in that moment.