This ticking of the clock
The thoughts running through my head
Mechanical air briefly brushing over my hair
Blue and white aged quilted blanket,
wrapped tightly around my legs.
Soft dog, smells of baby powder,
also wrapped around my legs.
Rumbling of cars go by
staring out into nothingness
Mind is blank
Tanned skin tingles
Legs crossed, toes entwined
Half-full water is still
Fingers move swiftly across the keys
No editing, no rewriting
Just me and my thoughts