Why now the mist fills my nostrils
why there is a mint freshness in those passages
while lead fills my arms and legs,
this I know not
Why the spirit of yawning spins in my skull
and my chest feels caved and low
while my leg bounces slowly, dyingly
this I know not
Why I long for the pillow now,
but resist, for complications it would bring
then struggle to fall asleep as I lie there
this I know not
