Caught between here and nowhere

He sits,
and stares
into the floor.

The filth,
that lingers
in the moisture,
carried in
by a hundred dirty shoes,
has created the most delightful of patterns
atop the worn hardwood floor.

All that thought,
has been floating
through the planes of memory.
But none of it seems to matter.

None of it he can recall.
The moment washes over his mind,
and his heart takes over his soul.

The picture,
of a beautiful,
benign woman,
has eclipsed
the rest of his psyche.

The moment
of momentary lapse,
passed
without the slightest of hesitations,
but the man was lost behind the veil of his own fantasy.

The long stroll
through crowded hallways
and rooms,
had never seemed more peaceful.
A flash grenade had gone off in his mind.

The daze in which he was caught,
would eventually subside,
and the foul taste of flat beer
eventually crept back
into the forefront of his imagination.

The dream had died,
had fallen to the filth
for everyone to step on.

but he always remembers his dreams.