i collapsed last night into dream without warning. but woke gently--just floated back through consciousness, still shut and stagnant, imposing a fading afterimage in the ever black pools. i pressed my ring finger into a crevice of stitching and slowly drew it up to my brow, tracing continuous unhurried circles around eyelids. eventually i rose, appearing before two large mirrors obstructed with melting morning light where i assessed my form and last night's unwashed makeup, lips stained and smudged eyes. i sat stoic, seemingly in a mind of no mind. but then suddenly it was as though all at once i was wedged in a sort of paradox, peering amid feelings of freshness and filth wherein i frenziedly grappled for grime's secreted immaculacy.