There is a different sky eacht time I look
within a dream, without a nap,
orbs are rolling upwards,
they drowse and grouse and cry for the moon,
someone stole the tangled skeins of Eve,
and fell asleep over it,
tending to tie the knot
inside the hidden rip,
inside the hush,
will you awake alongside of the skirting again?
I keep hearing about the bed of Eve.
one more hello from the beach,
tomorrow
then recite shakespeare in the shower
stolen lashes, somebody made a wish and fell asleep over it,
whenever a doze rose
to the surface,
a rose petal on the
tip of the tongue
a maudlin sight, a faint smile, faintly visible, ongoing, ongoing
I want to sleep
1 sheep 2 sheep 3 sheep
they lie still like pebbels
all around in head, in heaven
I want to hug
4 sheep 5 sheep 6 sheep
But the body must
be clean and proper
and a beauty incomplete
in complete immobility
but the body must bear no trace
to overcome the cold seeps
an overall absorption
a nightly terror
I want to sleep
7 sheep 8 sheep 9 sheep
swimming in a singing swirl
a sweet syrupy smell
inhale
snoozingaaa
flying dreams
were lulling me softly
to sleep
fruit gum, dessert, eye-shaped, blood drop,
blink-eyed, jelly-like, blushed, in a dream,
any time soon, in time,
what does an eye in the sky mean,
flow of tentacles and green,
it was a very silent pitter-patter,
found some tangled skeins,
some stained ones, inside a pit,
a pat on the head, on the back,
but still landing
drip drop drip drip drop
fake nails and snail shells were falling out of my handbag,
rolling down a sticky moving stairway,
leaving traces, deep down, uptown
followed by a flood of tears,
and still a turtle watched and walked,
unfazed; and kissed delicately away the tears
and while all the tears were fading; gently gently,
I tried to fill the slits with fizzy powder
I found inside a snazzy shoe; some night,
at a dizzy height
I am joining now the river flow
pell mell, pall malls, pulmonic pastilles
they are shiny and grey
in the mirror I see what they call my garb
cold and dry, sometimes wet
at the tip of a hair
idle moods
slow-paced moods
no excuses
it won’t crumble
dimmed dome light,
surrounded by a deep gloom,
bluish candelabrums that only half illumine
trapping and fixing them above a river bed,
desolated; in the middle of a wasted land,
look like coconut
palm trees,
ease and quicken paces,
by turns, by section
shy doves are seen colliding,
inside a gap-resistant field,
ridding the lack of contact and tact,
a dream within a dream,
a bloody simulation of
allure and airs,