Floating clouds of coming sleep,
clouds that hide the wounded day,
a day that struggled mightily for
just a place to sleep.
Floating streams of running dreams,
dreams that hide the seeker’s hope,
carried on in rivulets that
eddy into tides.
In billows, and in brine,
in water, and in wine,
past confidence and dissonance
and flavors alkaline —-
Floating islands made of smoke,
islands lost to time and space,
floating, seeking, dreaming, sleeping,
sleeping skin, a
carapace
To share is human:
Very heartfelt 😢