*My sight's static, grey, enigmatic,
My mind's aquatic, racing, erratic,
My limbs dissolve, lumbering like lead,
And my thoughts are elastic, splitting, spreading.
Please don’t steal me, o dismal dawn, dread drawn;
If I leave this velvet night, the floor will be frigid.
I don't want the light, the fight, or awoken scorn;
I wish to wade in shadows thrall, in vivid images.
The wind whistles, the house is still, yet I lie here;
Pine leaves rustle, the ceiling blurs, fingers smear.
Let me sink in these silky sheets for sixty minutes,
To fade away, start again, laying in florid thickets.
As I float in starry seas, hearing the world's call,
It beseeches me to stretch, stand, anything at all.
The clock's ticking; my body's fuzzy and buzzing,
Mulling over the rise, blue skies, and torpid
tugging.
To serenade and lay in this smoky, foggy cradle,
To turn to stone, be alone, letting the sun rot,
To let the tides climb, as I rove in forever fables,
To smell the glittery marigolds; why should I part?
I breathe, I blink, but I feel no flare
In my beating heart; dust dancing in the air.
My soul's entwined into fantasy, my steps unsure;
Drifting in endless directions, detached, obscured.*

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