Morpheus

While sleeping quietly dreaming
and weeping — the graveyard
of believing is my meaning
a wishful dreaming;

I sweat and gnast my teeth as a
baby painfully feeling life

how this relationship makes me
feel small/hearing the screams
of my parents, dead and crawling
from their graves telling me i
should grow but the alleys and
their slipery walls hold no
leverage and so my back again falls
into the Eden’s garden of all

While sitting here I can see there
and snuff my cigar in the eye of
a bright full moon while sipping
Merlot and aching breaking thanking
making waking my Soul

The woman’s soul and scent — her
womanly smells. Does she crush
my heart or penis with her words?

I would prefer she crush my mind.
Then take my body and make it her
vessel as a grand boat with seven
sails to sail across unknown oceans.

She says this makes her eyes weep
and breaks her thoughts — tightens
her vagina and then experiences
a touch but then to wait …

:: 06.23.2024 ::