And in those moments
When almost suddenly the noise of the television fades
I can’t see past the coffee table
And the couch seems to swallow me whole
Or half?
As a part of me watches from outside
And the other part can’t breathe
How could this be a moment
How can a moment be so long
But long is just a measure we ourselves have conjured
And a moment is nothing less than an expression
And everything is nothing more than an illusion
As the paintings on the walls go back to their place
And the couch releases its grip on me
The television is loud, almost too loud
Too real