Dark Mother
When the dark mother enters through sleepface,
And dissolves every thought into nightmare or sweetlace,
Unrecorded distortions are applied from experience,
Undefined by dimension to subtly take shape.
Disturbing drafts of ideas,
Entranced by a vast shifting scape,
Where images bleed and twine in the synapse fire,
Drafting unreal scenarios without disbelief.
To leave and be free of the person you try to be,
Yielding control to near infinite possibility.
Now dream, unflinchingly, under your cover,
With a slumbering kiss in your head from the other.
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