with you, here
gone
beyond reasonable waking
unavailable, remote -
I'm going to just have to lullaby myself. I must
dive, crash,
and gather in the twigs and straw of my eggless nest
around me like loose comforter stuffing, bury my head
so that the stars and wisps of ghost clouds can close in
and - invisible - wend me on their dark ways
towards morning.
It's not a race, but
I bet I wake up first. And I'll
have coffee for you, ready
to compare dreams. But yours
will be best.
as usual
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