Beneath the professing sound of my laughter,
Above the splintery skin of my earlobes
A music of reverie churns inside my naval
like the icicles formed, sticking
to my opaque, incongruous chirpings flowing
in the arms of my composer
my sooth sayer, my caretaker.
The dormant dormitory now kindles,
as the path of dark abyss moves
in the horizon of encapsulating time space
where the drops of my wrinkle free cheeks
move up in the sky,
as that brightest star,
fermenting your once dead spirit,
near your soft pillow.