i fell asleep last night
buried in sand on a
soundstage sunset
all maroon velour and
puffy yellow cinnamon
maple leaf squares

the gold and rose
shimmer my eyelids
were made of ran
down in sweaty
rivulets that dried
into fairy freckles

and i was neither
happy nor relaxed
and yet i was
content

drinking silver wine out
of a deep brown glass
quietly and bitterly
warming my twisted back
until a white robed
bedouin breezed in
on a gust of his own
cool half of the desert

shook me to my feet
and told me that the
blissful gauze over
my minds eye
couldn't last forever
and i had better
catch a camel before I was
consumed by the night

so i handed him a yawn
with a ribbon round it
said that it was not my
responsibility to know
the history of the
ceiling fan by heart
rolled upon my stomach
returning to happier dreams

and still the bedouin
could do nothing but
stare through me with
sun bleached eyes
that pulled my bones
out through the skin
of my back and turned
them whiter than the
moon before the night
had even clambered in
on top of dewy skin
and blushing cheeks

and i drifted away
on an inflatable raft
into the night where
nothing could hurt me