Tiny intruders scurry;
Caught by the corner of the eye,
Tracers coloring the mind;
Keeping a shit-eating grin on my face,
No need to fear.
Texture tickles my fancy,
And oh the things I hear.
I am hovering,
Everyone else is grounded.
They have no idea how I see them,
Inside my funny sphere.
With no explanation;
They’ll just assume they understand.
But they are not here.
Sorry, this is for my amusement alone.