Afternoon Nap

Flat on my back I waste a sleepy Sunday afternoon, Just a few breaths Left in the room, Approaching end Of a restless phase, Taking my space. Smiling to no one, Wild child never Left my side, Not that it needs A justification, In sweetness The means trump Intention. The source is Elusive, unformed Aloof and free, Like me, she Does not belong To anything, Except maybe Her naked soul. Random voices, Like good sleep, Are opaque, Middle distance Perspectives To differentiate The ache of The ages.