Those long dormant curtains begin to rustle,
Sway in the ponderous undulations of the time heavy,
and I hear them call to me in deep,
nigh-imperceptible murmurs.
Uneasy, scared even, I stumble from their velvety touch,
scramble for cover lest they be fully drawn away,
their gracious obscurity revoked,
but the ties which you so thoughtlessly undid
unfurl towards my frantic ankles;
tie and tug me into recognition, into exposure.
They have been set in terrible motion,
the dirt of sleep falling in droves through the harsh light,
and I, in awful new waters, cry your name till my throat runs raw,
knowing that your waves cannot be reversed.