Between this ceiling and the earth is my sleep
Lying sprawled on a four-poster bed like a lizard
Warm-blooded on roof, upside down, augmenting
Knowledge and beauty, for its tiny insects waiting
For death to liberate them and it from the need
To hang upside down, to go about their business.

Stealthy spiders trap them in their silk strands
Glistening in corners among the falling shadows
Their meaning found in insects wanting to die.

My sleep hangs between the earth and the ceiling.
My four posters are the four corners of the world
That brought me to the world from the earth up.
Now I am three feet away from the earth and soon
There shall be no roof between sleep and the sky.






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