Monday, November 26, 2007

and bury the dust of the failing wisdom

keep art alive; art by alison casson

sleep is often so fleeting. she comes in and kisses my eyelids lightly, pulling me into a watercolor dripping and dizzy sense of a dream. there is always music there, and sometimes i can step my own steps within all of it, wrapping arms around translucent bodies of light, and love. but sleep, she is a transient thing, coming and going with a fevered touch, electric, but so quickly gone. five in the morning, with the darkness still covering each and every spot of the room, i sit within it and contemplate everything from candy flavors, unread book pages, and love. the questions, they hover in the heavy morning air, lighting it up before the sun decides to grace it all with morning.

"there's a shake with the shock
and a gift off with them
they carry the dust of the failing wisdom
for you there's not any warning
for you there's not any warning
and love is five in the morning."

star bodies ~ the new pornographers

1 comment:

Kate said...

tis you mention sleep...alluded me this weekend. Watched the sun come up before my eyes would compromise and close.