Sublimation

In a room for everyone

on a barstool my bones 

connect to muscles and nerves
connected to my skin in these jeans
connected to a leather seat of a chair firmly
connecting the shiny floor to walls stretching to
connect corners with the inside here to the outside there 
while summer-like weather exhales through the door.
The particles blend with each breath of new air
from all lungs and I fall asleep
traveling further and further amongst trees toward the sky
like a patch of fading smoke parting from the tip of a burning incense

into a vast unknown universe and I dream of

a bloody rose bursting into bloom from my open gut.

Daylight on the ledge of a

dream – I make my bed and some pancakes for breakfast.
Doors open to another day in the usual manner, motion and speed,
the water is boiling on the stove. 

I walk into an open suitcase left on the floor,

yawning and stretching, 

the mirror is a reflection of me on an average morning
of just another day.