I fell asleep with the orangy hazes of snow through atmosphere
tones faintly swaying as thought washed out into the smoky ices
and my visions were piled with little-known visages roaming
when I stirred there was no heat in me
the room was veiled in the greys of day before light
and strangely sudden sounds of music sped my mind
I realized I need in that funny soft hour
dream masks still laid on my sheets to offer asylum
and coverings to secure me from the penalties the outside demands
I bite tips of morning as I pass through sinews of night
watch a blooming illumination after seeing it diffused to dark
and unbearably thick moments loom on the edges of each hour
so difficult to grip the rising of the sun and join standing ranks
when I am throwing broken glass at the moon’s shadow all night
