Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Liminal

Wake me, wake me; there is only so much dreaming
can do. The way mirrors
can only mirror and mouths
mouth and people can only
live. I have noticed that freedom often
sounds like a rope. Or a fence. But gravity

is like a rope, or a fence, or a stern hand.
I banned it from my world but I want it back; even my feet
long for a place they must stand; I shake and
twitch, running in my sleep, sleep-jumping.