in sleeping waking
i wake in sleeping
as sleep is waking

in the nice hollow
of dust and lightning
teetering softly
(aloft the feathers of
laughing flowers
deeply flowers
smiling sneering flowers)
in the crook of arms
nestled suddenly
in heaps of sighing flesh

i wake to sleeping
as sleep is waking
(thinking dreaming)
in plumes of colour rich
on the din of atoms
that is this self