Sleeper

Jennifer Paige©1997

My edges become less and less defined

In the velvet planes of sleep.

From the room where air and earth caress,

And the bed where life, love, and dreams are conceived,

I seek you out.

Here in the black,

In the equilibrium of stone and space

I hang on to your shade.

I see you on your marble pedestal,

Right where I left you.

I’ll pin your black-winged whims.

This is the only place we can meet, my love,

The astral, the surreal.

Your world is imaginary, I do not belong.

But could I survive there?

If taken out of context, would I conjugate?

Or would I fade like you do in the mist of morning?

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