she sits on the floor of her bedroom
tea in one hand, ipod in the other
in front of her mirror
the chair is just a foot away
but she wants to watch herself think
as she feels chamomile and eucalyptus flood her soul with scent
and the strains of acoustic guitar flood her mind with ideas
about the coral reefs of yonder
the exotic, distant lands awaiting her arrival
of the endless sky beyond the reach of humanity's structures
and she yearns to escape the bonds of the four walls holding her in
stifling her every thought
while this transpires, she watches her face change from an expression of utter contentment
to that of extreme longing for spontaneity
where is the joy?
the great perhaps?
certainly not here
but certainly somewhere else
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