Close your eyes.
Do not sleep.
Watch as your blood and your day
It is only you here...
You will sleep soon enough,
Dream your bloodless dreams
While you can.
It’s not true that we dream too much
Between light strikes,
The fragrance: burnt coffee and
Moldy books, damp alleys and old puddles
A fine, thin scent of bitter flowers
Only lately past their pink and yellow prime.
It is all familiar, yet takes your breath away.
It’s warm in this fog-filled hallway,
Hiding mirrors and self-portraits
The warmth is your heart