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Tip Toes
The silent sanctity of sleep
Could be to effectively retrieve
Remnants of our repressed revenant
Linking the missing pieces
Between the annals of folklore and immediacy
Yet it’s a mystery
How when I’m sound asleep
I intimately tip toe towards my oblivion blissfully
I barely blink as my life raft sinks into a sea of sharks
Pulling apart bamboo shoots of my raft
Shards of horned ivory glaciers deviously depart
Chartering an emerging route to delinquently dart
Out of a desolate, damning destiny
Sensibly so I can spill back into my senses eloquently
Gently, reminded to recapture the revelation as it came to me
But I barely breath in this purgatory
Cathartically contracting and reacting
One node in my chain reaction
To this rehearsal for eventual eternity
Of uncertainty, laboriously languishing in this trance of lucid sleep
Coiling, caressing subconscious subtleties
Unconsciously haunting me
So dauntingly
Copyright ©
Shiraz Bautista
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