You do not want orange juice
after you have fainted.
But they give it to you.

Forcing a circus
into your mouth, they swarm,
and it stings.

The expressions on their faces slip off.
The clock smiles, conspires
and gives up.

Was it you who dreamt you were a fish?
Failing as you hit the closet door
and slid - I don't recall.

But now, on your back,
you should pay attention.
You struggle to breathe out of water.