If I am here and not here,
now and not now,
where and when am I?
This place seems real enough.
Sight and sound
touch and taste,
shape the world I wake to.
A world that gives me,
pain and pleasure
beauty and the beast,
love and loss.
Still, my intellect tells me
it is not real,
merely a construct
of my senses
Full of small talk
of small moments.
Brain-roof chatter
to keep me connected.
While just outside
the crippled confines
of my animal awareness
infinity dances its eternal dance
