Feeling Drunk and Wandering

Last night the heavy stench of steamed vegetables filled the entire bottom floor of the house— when I moved from room to room, a thick greening covered me, — a dense awareness of food. Even now a sense of vegetation lingers in the bedroom, in the sheets, the curtains. As trying to walk underwater. Or feeling drunk and wandering. •
Last month I underwent mild knee surgery. The swelling of my right leg and the ever increasing pain reached a point of necessity for change. Now, virtually nothing remains of the prior months— no evidence of limping, no shots of electricity across the joints, no scars. As if I walked into a parallel time stream— one without a history of wounding. Without the tearing of muscle tissue.