Taiga Biorne

[Semicircle]

Bubbles rising
swirling in little spirals
that slosh around
on gentle ripples
that lick the ceiling.


Fuzzy puffballs
cling to his skin
their spindle fibers
twirl and sway
reaching out for bacteria
to catch on their fans.

The humming light 
strobes various colours
tinting the room in 
lurid hues.

His ebony hands entwined
as he sits erect
behind a steel desk
staring blankly at the flaking walls
waiting patiently 
for a quiet rapping.

Thoughts all shredded up
floating in a tank— 

waiting patiently
for a quiet rapping.