Breath chugs like a choo-choo
Heart thumps like a racehorse
Consciousness grows in the dark
(Quiet is relative with a snoring husband nigh)
I orient to my surroundings with raised hackles 
and talk myself down from being up in arms
in tongues


What was that about
What was that floozy thinking
making advances toward my husband


Battle mode retreats
Heart attack and harlot attack averted

but the brain bulldozes with abandon
No going back to sleep now

“Coffee puts hair on your chest” 
my grandma used to say
I place a mug in the brewer

The phantom floozy best be drinking coffee too
if she knows what’s good for her
I don’t share