We shall travel on the black waters said my sleep
In a dream where we will feel gods who bite with fair hair frailed;
in a dream where in hideous love-making of mad seas we float
like dragonflies treading steadily
in a frantic yet almost motionless passion.
I carried nothing for all bliss riden dreams
one has to learn to treasure a smile, for pleasure is not everlasting.
thinking nothing of a dreams essence, nothing of any interpritation.
i would swing it around my back with the whirl of hurricanes upon wake
swiped by face with the sourest apple grim, squinching my eyes;
in an antique dream, where sugar coated memories fade into a collidasocpe;
twirling a verocious coctail of remorce, un-condolenced actions..
i must sit here, in the twilight which reveals the leached urchins
in the deep black waters, i hung there, in a dreamers minute
-Libran B.
