In sleep I leave thee, mortal tomb,
to respire and snort amidst the gloom
of ****** haze and time's distort,
graveyards to the wars we've fought.

Impossible colour in the light,
the child-god redeemer of my appetite,
for that deep-set rock ocean blue,
to remind me of all that is true.

To faces, to faces, to faces
it bends, of childhood teachers,
and teenage friends,
in one pulse forgiveness,
in another amends,
all outcomes played out,
before the end.

Falling further into a breathless stream
of thriving light and ecstasy dream,
I see the clasp of our lips set in between,
all that was, and ever has been.

In sleep I kiss thee, wholesome womb,
pressing light bodies in a violet room,
abundant in pleasure,
and absent of sin,
in the promise that the Sun
will rise again.

We cling to each other,
and we cling to the bed,
to all gravity's demands
and all the lines we've been fed.

With pleasure I leave thee, patient friend,
to my Garden of Life on which I do tend,
to find my wisdom, to find the truth,
to settle within your arms of youth.

Please settle this longing that is in your place,
this constant fear, of an empty space.