murmur from the sleeper

i woke up with my stomach turned inside out
curled in the form of my duvet, caught in white feathers
my dreams popped in my head like bonbon sweets
so i closed my eyes and wandered aimlessly back to this spot
the light flickers in the room, cat behind the sheet on the window
sturdy rays that i hide from, what is outside for?
thinking about today makes me push my face into the pillow
breath hard and concentrate on the warmth entangle of bed
i like getting up, i like going places, seeing people but
when it catches up to me, when i am in reality and out of my mind
feeling turns it’s back on me and the doing takes control
i could make lists of the things that i want to work for, places i need to see
this has to start somewhere, i need a beginning to begin from
it’s not this morning though, not with the twisting jolts through my body
hidden electricity of fear and pain that i’m aware even when i drift in unconcious
who i am terrifies me, distorted image of myself in the middle of field reforming
falling, rebecoming again. always with the same burning heart and salt crust eyes
i cant think of these abstract things, love hate revenge bliss passion freedom
where do they fit in the havoc of gross life, of flying disoriented to your destination
and then proceeding without yourself along with you.
in my dreams, there is a whole person, no body to speak of just raw pulp of feel
and i’m accepting graciously, the way i’m moved and melted into sky
no endings there, only continuous beginning, soft edges and wild everything
for the mouth of soul, for the taste of spirit, i’m more than existing there
but now in this bed, sawing away at the pictures behind my eyes
the room i wake to and place i sank to, i’m preparing for the day in sections
sleep more to shake the lack of the limitless freedom
back to being caught in feather smoke, following lines of german easter eggs
kissing surface to be kissed back, renewing a self so far hidden when i wake.