Rest - Marc Chagall

Ever sunk so low that mellow hits Your dreams cascade directly from the sky Cavities of the underground cushion The world splits into primary colours Stretching of limbs a forever of blissful Everything arches Towns slink away to rest untroublingly elsewhere The here and now evaporates Becomes the inhalation You breathe it in, dutifully Reach euphoria Fly away with that one bird Be the product of a thousand wombs Every spell I cast sets a different hue I swallow everything but the outline Am satiated Should I wake - the scene will crumble I'll rise and see the depravation of this reality Then start again from scratch So I'll sleep for now