Straining uselessly,
eye muscles, scientists say,
refused passage of light.
Eyes, meat, with air, noiseless, noiseless,
air pressure touching watery surface.
Eyes look harder, but do not open, and do not see.
I am loud to myself
Screaming out of pain
Was that heard, was that real?
Faintly I recalled a motive to give
a care about what others heard.
Screaming no more
I pulled up a cup of water,
Tried pouring it directly onto my head.
Much to my frustration, I missed.
The waters did not cool me or touch me
but formed a lake in my floor,
whereupon I sunk from bed
into the white-linen-armed feeling
of a watery, wetless embrace.
While in water I could see the 3/4 angle
from above myself (mysteriously), hair floating in a rippling
aqua mock puddle.
Those arms were so gently strong.
I woke in fear.