On
my right side
I
curl into the fetal position,know a delicate merge will soon
bless the curtain of night
and I will disappear,
to reappear, a murmur
in some parallel place.
This,
the stars promised
when
they left me heredamp and bottomless,
a silver sheen deep inside;
a duplicate copy
suitable for travel,
remembrance, recollection.
And
I go - come, willingly
conjure
the green kissof bliss to greet me.
Marvel the bloom of orange
on lustrous shores,
respect the tempo of terror
for what I cannot see.
Is
it age or knowledge
that
makes me questionwhat was dream?
In which world
did diamonds sparkle,
did tarnish dull the jewels?
Am I the dream of another me?
