Dreams drip from the eaves

of my mind

into future's fertile soil

time will tell

of my sleep and my awakening

from nightmares

of not knowing

whence I grasped onto nothingness

in my being with no basis

on objects ostensible oasis

there is no flight for the fallen

when gravity buckles beliefs

into truths and feeling

finally finding

the floor

I rise up to face the day

of closed doors and



Am i awake now

in a state of lucid living?

or living a life in dreams...

which seems

more real to me?

an illusion of infinitudes

of somewhat intangible truths

or this ripe core of a rod of divinity

of a rich and vulnerable heart.

the only real is what I feel

I thought i finished,

but i start and start and start

together united

divided apart

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