dear lord
we are on rough waters
of a pool of saliva
you produced while sleep walking
and only in your sleep
do you acknowledge my existence
through blind retort
blue-glowing retort
I am the sail and will decide the direction
and you are the wind propelling us into jagged rocks and jagged water
your crew has abandoned ship
and you are a whirlpool
and eventually
your twitching eyes
darting eyes
sleep walking eyes
will creak under crusty cement
and you will too acknowledge the ship you destroyed
on jagged rocks
and rough waters