a poem. that sucks.by me. I need a nap.

Morphine Dreams


Hyacinth haze in
An evening sunset glow
Brings me down into
The lovely feeling of being hungry
For another
Sugar existence
Where drifting is the only thing to do
Besides melting as wax
Into a dripping mess
And bringing all the trees and live things down
Trickling furiously into wax puddles
That harden
And disappear
Into the lost places
into the grooves of fingertips
and the suffocating comfort of a pillow
or a mother.
Sleep is splinters.
Vulnerable and unaware
I sleep on.

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