until the ferns flare out of the dream

unconnected time to lights
done anguish over the last
child out of forest
now out of tangent
if we can be out of
anything
let me see
it would slip against darkness
as this and this
as a darkness drawn from the
hip instead of a blank partition
there are only water colors in
the house scene
you choose to believe
what about the empty start
or the long retreat
write your name out
name yourself how you'd be
and what about the last goodbye
when we said we'd why we'd
leave ourselves
to be ourselves
to be
anything
but extinct
or sighing into our sleeves
crawling back closer to the long drawn body of dreams
and the round tension of a neck turned back to be within me
we look out again over darkness and trees
and choose then the only way to be
a raw drawnness that contains the weight of sleep
and wants to wrestle the hustle to heal try not to blind the seeing
the only one i've ever really loved so well as you was me