In quiet and empty nights I am like small breaths sitting still in the air. Something pulls and I sink into this bed. Loosening fibers. This feeling aches, it lingers, the seeds sprout. I am no longer I -- the form detaches. Thoughts visit momentarily and take flight. Take me hostage, I will not fight. Dreams are not so bitter and so I dream of an unknown world where we can keep our timid hearts in some sample of skin, maybe when we pass. And then like most things that grow vertically, we will fall to our knees. A tree will take our place and speak of us now and again. Oh how I wish it could be now!