Palms open, supine position
Visceral buzzing
No fight, No flight
Karabasan
She sits on my chest stealing my breath
Floating in purgatory between the bardo realms
Paralyzed
Atop a gothic tower
Flanked by twin gargoyles
At the center but a single flower
Ancient chairs and damp soil
Surrounded by a thousand eyes
A congregation of suit and ties
khmout sukkhot
around a round table
world leaders conspire
their voices crescendo
as do the tremors
finally the tower breaks at its foundations
and I fall with an anvil on my chest
before I hit the ground
I awake stark, upright and sweating
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