A greasy black sleep embalmed me in a lidless jar
I squiggle and slither within
Even the deafening screams of a billion dying pigs
Couldn’t fish me out of the abyss

You played with my fingers
Made faces at me and spoke in funny voices
Silver grey feathers bloomed from your shoulders
To form wings on your back

Wings of redemption, wings of desire
Like scenes being born out of movies
The Neolithic silence of your hazel eyes devoured me
I melted formless on your blue hair-cloud

Oh time cone
Oh liquid sun
Oh springtime cuckoo
Oh memory
Why wake me up?

Featured Art: Dream Caused By The Flight Of A Bee Around A Pomegranate A Second Before Awakening, 1944 by Salvador Dali


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