Sleep Lives Inside the Bed
Sleep lives inside the bed, the same color as the inside of eyelids,
but deeper and flecked in the stardust of neural connections...
Sleep lives inside the bed, the same color as the inside of eyelids,
but deeper and flecked in the stardust of neural connections...
These are the days of silver, and of gold —
the panting cold, the burst of bright on black
as coins sprout from trees, shiver...
for B
where the ocean falls into itself /in what we would consider adverse
conditions that include pressure, crushing cold, darkness/...
(I will be
cold as thought
hot as light
deep as sin
and doubly–full
like a coin of Sun and Moon)
There is alchemy within
there...
Look: I am eight
I look up
from a vast recliner kingdom
upholstered in 1970s off–gold
and off–emerald
I look up
from a paperback...
I am —
I am —
Oh, just ignore it, catches sometimes,
just a gear in my throat.
Just needs some polishing,
maybe descaling,
it...
Sappho with violets in your smile,
why lie awake counting the Pleiades?
Why pace the grey shore
with the sea hissing of lost lovers...
I’m probably going to die
at midnight.
Don’t worry—
I’ll set the timer on the coffee pot
before I go.
The crows will be up with...
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