Existence

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

At night,
I dive into whirlpools,
slip-sliding and twizzling
round and down, round and down,
on pillow-seat into
the depths and
the coils
of my
mattress springs.

At night,
I spring into life,
into my real existence,
into my mortal world.

If my mother were to meet me
here,
would she know me?

At night, my toes grow deep
into myself, into
my roots.

By day,
I am nothing.

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, November 2018

Inspired by ‘Self-Portrait as Semiramis’, by Mary Kim Arnold.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s