liminal spaces

When Under Ether

The ceiling is moving, 
moving in time,
like a conveyor belt 
above my eyes.

When under ether
the mind comes alive, 
conscious of nothing 
but the will to survive.

I lay on the bed,
waist down undressed, 
look up at the ceiling 
feeling happiness.

Human kindness;

the woman beside me 
is holding my hand,
I point at the ceiling, 
she smiles, so kind.

Something's inside me 
unborn and unblessed, 
disappears in the ether 
this world to the next.

Human kindness.


White Chalk

When Under Ether

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http://pjharvey.lnk.to/iinsidetheoldyeardying/

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