Here I am again
thinking about sleeping
never quite letting go
never quite coming back
In this bed-strewn fantasy world
where curtains are drawn and redrawn
never quite taking shape
I look for an anchor and find sinking sands
pieces of scaffolding
half-buried
scenery almost remembered
shifting across time
I pick my way through
looking for open doors
then shuffle back again
feeling for a hole in the sheets
No time passes:
the sky is out of sight,
the bay is starless
I reach out for whoever may be passing
but I am invisible
except to you