The Angular Gyrus

The room broke into a kaleidoscope:

A flurry of stained glass with no particular organization.

Gravity receded but resistance made me jolt.

Then his hand grabbed mine. He whispered,

“It's only a dream.”

I let myself glimpse the current, dipping only a foot,

And found it overwhelming.

Encapsulating and exposing me, that moment ripples into now.

The dog is dead. The cat, too.

“You knew what you were doing.”

I did not want to say she caught me aiming.

Yet, denial took hold in a place in my brain.

Not on a shelf:

Around a column.

This chain snapped as millions of brights

Dazzled beneath my lids, waking me from the floor.