Piles of dust rise,
like accordions inhaling,
remnants of countless lines
of past demises' failings.
A sudden gust from my mouth
sends saliva sailing,
as I fall into a chair,
my elbows gently flailing.
I here extend my legs
just-a-little-bit-more-now frailly,
soaking up the macro view
of particles dancing freely, gaily.
