Dreams graze on ghosts
and have since wind
became breath.
Over burned matter
brought fertile again
future’s erected
ghosts beneath.
Sleep is for haunting.
Desire is terror’s
idle hands.
Verge joining
dreamy teeth
to phantasmal grassy tips
Connective tissue
of sleep
and specter
Give muscle memory and aftertaste
of work
storing its grievances
in shoulders.
As beds are of no relief,
repose
only lets re-enter
the gone
and forlorn
tasked to give sensibility
to pain.
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Tidy!
An excellent piece.
Cheers
Laurie