melatonin 1
tongue tip laps off words
shadowed by movement
splayed on splintered mirrors
my wrists antenna towards heaven
haven’t called in an hour
I’m tired
but I’ll never hate you
you change by the hour - softly, blindly, godly
my throat buckles, chest sinks and curls next to the legs of a chair
I don’t want to die, I just want to sleep for a long while
unaware, deep black, send me off to opal space
where the hum of the ship’s my mother’s lullaby
and I’ll wake up to it snug in my coffin bed
with caffeine pumping, dancing to a rhythm
played by no sun nor moon
my radio tuned into wrists raised
towards a crystalline maze
ran by dogs with their wallet
filled with hairballs and bones
their palms bear-trapped
till the tree saps dry out
and the only hymns sung
are carried by winds
whistling through xylophone ribs