I fell asleep to vexed voices speaking over each other.
With a residual hint of tannin on my lips,
And the next day's tasks laid out in my head,
Sleep found me not long after.
I dreamt of strange things:
Of people at work, and ex-partners;
Of inter-changable faces, and hotel bath tubs.
I found myself awoken by the howling wind at sporadic intervals.
But I always slipped back to sleep.
I drove down the leafier stretch of Bulleen Road,
To Beth Gibbons' beautiful poetry.
At work I kept my head down and eyes straight,
And the hours slid sympathetically by.