Physics

Although I continue to pile
heavy skins on top of
solid bones, my buoyancy
forces me upward.
I have tried to tether my
wrists and ankles, driving
iron stakes into carpet
and knotting nylon cords around
plastic chairs, but
I have yet to find a
weight friendly enough to
keep me from flying in that
predictable circle.
Unable to close my eyes,
I am faced with a
constant view: the
underside of the surface
of the air never changes.
The same glass paramecia
hurl themselves at my face,
bounding off my nose
and chin before breaking
through the surface and
sailing up to the ground of
another familiar planet.