And Awake

This is me, laughable A slight cackle from a broken throat Dry as Egypt's ageless dust and catching On the flaming cottons of dead haberdashery I caught a glimpse of moon Eyes capsized under distilleries A forehead clouded in snow drops dripping like rain I dreamt of many splendid things No, I didn't; I mock the most of all My neck is sore and red like first time loves The heat is stifling and I am burning your tongue The face in the reservoir, dead slick floating but solid The rivers wash a black night sky and slowly it emerges Placed equally, matching my own unknowable incantation And time again, I am born Enflamed hollow archives, they see for the first time Slowly in a moment, my hands touch them catching drips Spiders crawling all over my not-quite-so cadavar The thud of the moon and clash of wind Titan in their endeavours and manoeuvres Pushing forward as a child, as a child The black heartless wilderness and rampant wooded soul Hands to throat, choking and awake, and awake.