Ledges

Sleeping on the edge of
Dreaming.

I don't know why it happens:
I sleep on the edge of my mattress.
I don't know why I'm leaving room.
If it were for someone else, then whom?
There is only me.

Slipping off the edge of
Sleeping.

I don't see when it happens:
I fall from the edge of blackness.
I slip into dreams of falling.
I'm unclothed by something's calling.
Here I find my joy.

Sinking in the ether of
Dreaming.

I don't know left from right here,
And up from down will never matter.
I am in a state of dream now.
Time is a cloud, but cars laugh so.
Serotonin is a drug.

Waking on the edge of
Recalling.

I don't whisper any truths;
I never tell secrets to my pillow.
Every cell defaults to black.
Now I can't call those images back.
The dream remains a dream.

Before Breakfast

I walked on the moon this morning.
It was blue and cool,
Probably from the tides.
All they gave me was a warning
And the name fool;
And then I found my way outside.

I flew over Jupiter this morning.
If the sky is the limit
Then I'm breaking down the rules.
I light my path by sojourning.
Opposition can't dim it:
Light glows and flows and pools.

I found my home this morning.
It is cool and dark like hands
Holding me back lest I fall.
The hands of seashells adorning
The beaches and white-hot sands,
Where dances a child's doll.