Still Sleeping;
I mixed through Dirty red, spent with the mattress corner touching all of the rooms giving of the I, out of my dark me.
The ways he and my arms mixed, and to free All, the one, a struggling daughter, saving after me.
There is little that another weariness could hold in the windows, going across.\
Solemn, long my body and the tapering dirty neck. Ultimately, I am berserk, with the sword, held high above, the table, cut down.
Wooden lovers, speaking in crawling floorboards.
Be careful going into the old unearthly things. Make gentle triangles face upwards.
They were between the end of each world, giants with wings folded like the worlds, little blue drop people mixed down on earth,
mixed flowing in the mantle bag. Down to the equator.
