ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
REM
Due to neglect of the most important parts of sleep, all the
missing motions of my eye came together in an army marching
through my heartbeats. The rhythm catches my feet and they
begin to pump. Finding an empty spot in a back row, I slip
into the so dreamily tramping. A colonel with his face covered
by clouds watches me from the stands. Moonlight or it could
be lightning struggles to break through. He lifts a hand that
disappears in the mist. Was it a salute, or was I pointed out
as an imposter, a spy in their routine astounding regiment?