a Glimpse

It’s warm like wind chimes.
It’s cool like blue walls and creamsicle striped sheets.
It’s muffled like traffic in a glass box.
It’s uneasy like my neck on the bulges of a floppy pillow.
It’s hot like creased vinyl in the sun’s entrance.
It presses, prods, pokes, and pushes.
It pulsates, waits, rips the air apart with a burp, and you know it’s come.
It’s deep with glitters and light drowned by shades of turquoise.
It’s open like a dance of shadow and light.
It’s soft like sincere words seeping through to your heart.
It’s still like a door shut in place.