Old Water

i was thirsty, didn’t want to change rooms, or go to the sink,
so i reached around, fumbled, found a glass of water
of old, old water, and i drank it down, moths and bacterium,
old words and dead dreams,
little flashes of sleep narrative that i’d had
came bubbling back to the surface and pop!
images, girls, good dreams, bad dreams,
all distilled and different in the days old water,
water filled with dusty sunbeams and all the phases of the moon.