Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Sleeping Wanting

When I was in my bed
I dreamed
And in my dreams I slept
When my arms were wide I flew
A tree on the water
A moon in the night
My dreams were gold; wailing
Your eyes were stars; wailing--punctuating

But even my ballast was an illusion
Her hands were woven--milk and moon
Her kisses;
A morning loon in the redolant mist
And I, in the vastness of a bed without a border, enchanted and bewildered
Was yet without a language, yet without a father, yet without a glory.

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