The lighthouse shrinks like lace
Twisting shades in velvet breath
Evening wound, sundown grin
Silken sobs, satin screams
Night embrace
As wax and clay paint your face
I behold starving quicksands
As you slip through my hands
Magnetic fields call through
This growing sleep
Where I can’t trail you
Where I can’t beseech
Would I wait until
The bells of morning
Which reveal
The angels of spring
Slumbering birds
Passing over
Cracking domes
And abandoned homes
But do sleepwalkers know
Where they flow
Is there a smile, somehow
But do we know