I rested
My hands in the
Palms of my dried
By the desert
Weathered and tear
Torn love worn
Hands

Imagined in youthful
Embellishments
Imaginations fortified for
The need and want
And desire in honor of form

Obsessing through
The night
Waking in day dreaming
Only of what the
Work would allow me to
Permit my voice
To say
A voice mine own
But one not yet polished

Tired
No longer

Only full of
Bounding and
Endless desires

To accept
Without fear
Or discourage or
Doubt

I am alive now

I will be dead later

I sleep with myself
And the world
Covers me in warmth
Sighing with me
As I breathe peacefully

Waiting eager to wake

So to start

Once more