I let it rest on my tongue
Only for a moment’s time.
Then the capsule is formally flung,
Washed down with Corona and lime.
The combination soothes my itchy head
But it wakens my dreams.
I drift slowly to sleep in giant bed
Only to be woken by screams.
They are my own yells
Escaping the dreamland,
I had a dream about Kells.
And how she released my hand.
Primitive Poetry 