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.
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