Salvia and October Sunsets

Everything is water that courses over you. Almost as thought the world is covered in clear plastic and your hands lay over it. The world is seperate from my hands.
Doesn't that shock you, even a little bit?
Tom is smiling at me for under the prison cover. There are multiples of him that remind me of the taste of salvia in my mouth, which I had earlier forgotten in the excitement of my high. Now, even though I feel that sense of urgency that comes with the decline of my high, I am strong. Able to release and think beyond that world of plastic I earlier envisioned. Still, tom stares at me, still, "its bad enough we get along so well" rubs against my ears. still "goodnight and go" swims over my keys.
Regaining that control of earlier seems unimportant as the keys shuffle and create a tattoo. Faint, yet distinctive. Without logical rhythm, we substitute the irregularities of necessity. I must type, I must type to write, and this becomes my song, the hesitation of the fingers on the keyboard, the swipe of the space bar, and to do that, I hit space bar.
The space between space and bar stuns and mesmerizes me. Oh, how long the music stopped as I pondered the word "mesmerize". and another pause. pause. mesmerize. too complicated, as I earlier mentioned.

"And after, I stared at my pupils in the mirror, mesmerized ( haha) by the speed as they changed size. Open to close" and this is my inner dialogue even as I did this thing, in my mind, the dialogue went just like that.
I really did look at my pupils in the mirror. I did.