My hands are sweaty, My heart beats too fast (not fluttering like the wings of a bird but
thumping like stones being thrown into water).
My chest is tightening,
The breath being sucked out (a rude interruption to such a familiar
rhythm but it wakes me).
My skin is sizzling,
Something moves under the surface (a rush of warm
floods as something spiky).
My eyes are open,
Everything is precise ( but I can’t see a thing because I’m
looking through a window of smoke).
I’m afraid, he says, You’ve caught a case of the Feels
