She whispered-
innocence in my ear,
while her hands crawled
under the covers and
called her a liar.

I am in outer space
I am levitating
light as a feather
in another state of being

but I am no alien
( I am not dreaming)
I was born with a heart
I have every human feeling.

I touch the tips of stars
I sleep in the cradle of the moon
I dance with the clouds
to the music of the heavens I swoon.

Lighter, yet lighter I am getting
(I know I am not dreaming)
weightlessly I am drifting, flying
in space infinite--in a world without ending.

Faces in the crowd
among which I am one
each heart silently bears its joys and sorrows
the business of living is never done

as we have to wake up everyday
with the never-failing rising sun
(even the weakest, frailest and most sickly)
though the day's prospects are grim and life isn't fun.

Holding on, clinging on
dangling in the limbo
of survival and existence
what the future holds none really does know.

Faces in the crowd
passing and fading images--I know no one-
yet I feel their pulses as I, mine--- murmurs
of existential* angst---until life's sad drama is done.