when the thick fog creeping on your back seeps past consuming sickness that was keeping track, gets lost at last but this relief is leaping into grief, it's getting deep and getting black, it's coming fast, the clouds just weep themselves to sleep since they can't brace for this attack
i may be awake i may be asleep i cannot remember falling either way this deep
I am a dream.
I am experienced only as I occur Even then the clarity at best is a stuttering blur. The strands felt by fingertips lips kiss goodbye can't repeat or be shared or reasoned much of why. I am a nightmare.