Tilting the Eyes

Coincidentally stranded dreams forgotten subconscious before my eyes epiphany me awake to be woven on the wooden loom in dusty day beams breaking windows with sheets conspired to bleach and twist the bones of night to brittle truth Muffled outside, real life noises puncture my moment of pure realization with time. Blasted time - this measured music to trap me in bar lines of rhythm and routine. It's in an offhand way that I wake leaving epiphany's and the dream roads that brought them trapped under made beds, down pillows and my own real life noises. My loom is broken into two invisible skeletal wings on my back, making each step lighter until I tilt the eyes and sleep again, these rescued dreams to weave.