Unconscious On A Toasty Summer Afternoon

I was home, standing next to the window that invites a full, late sun into the room.  It seemed that the sun brought with it the heat and light of an entire day.  It always does this.

I was standing there singing my song, feeling the heat on my face.

I could see the words coming out of my mouth as I sang.  They strung together and twirling like a ribbon, they fell onto the table beside me.  Then the ribbon of words slipped off the table and coiled onto the floor like a snake getting ready to strike.

So I ran.
And the words chased me, darting at my feet - the pronged tongue licking at my heels.

Before I was bitten, I woke up.
Refreshed, but unwilling to finish what I started.

*Artwork:  At Rest by Pino