in the jarring transition from vested in sleep to standing blearily in front of the toilet my skin still pebbled pupils midslit as the gecko dream lingers a transparency over the real world careful to not touch anything in case it gets

but then it isn’t the mad dash up the wall any longer but the decision of trying to give sleep another go or knowing yourself well enough in human guise that it is coffee with a splash of watching the sky chameleon go from black to blue

so in the midst of a series of frankly overly dramatic yawns to an audience of none which further infuriates the fool at the sheer volume and length of the torso rattling expansions for breath already taken by greedy cells barely existing

minutes ago i was a gecko on the rough stucco wall unsure of orientation in the scramble to see as much as possible now a slug sipping brown water as the birds sing outside the window and somewhere out there she slumbers peacefully, i hope

i am not prepared to give myself to a day so suspect in its lack of motivation, instead i give myself to the memory of the day that never occured because somewhere in that instance of sometime, something happened that made my today go bad