white chalk

"atop crumbled sheets"
clutching my prior
skin.
white hollow waves,
reminiscent of
struggle
-dream marks-
as I submit
to my inner illusion:
irregular
fascinating
awkward
inward
eye!
Once I was chasing my cherubic snake
-a wreckles line,
a portable river,
silver simulation
of serenity and grief.
But of all the tossing
and turning,
I am now
a motionless plain
receptor
of flooding mute light;
I swallow the words
as they arrive
in broiling fleets of
crystal cyclists:
spinning feet,
wavering hair-
blissful tomorrows remember Proteus
in their bare
adolescent arms.
But now
"we float",
the lace trimming has risen
to my knees,
a painless awakening,
stochastic traces -the debris of genesis- on the ceiling
awaiting
anew-
a longing.