does a lion lie do lies settle here,
beneath these sheets in these nested enclosures,
i've found myself strewn upon? or corridors, from i to places
never invented?
or just clusters of stars,
too distant seven things
from wherever i found myself, burnt oceans into sand;
or what breathing was, two glimmering points.
or emptiness?
there you were, a sign of rehearsal,
pulling life down, on trails hung or omen, or,
in perfect lines from just kind of nothing
each &every; spark in the sky at
all.
*nine. sharp.
am i
always just
this unmotivated?*
do i truly perceive
the embedding nothingness does this get
from life, or just in dream still? any easier?
i'd rather find
myself at
the bottom of the ocean,
some
days,
i guess. sorry.