Overlapping

We awake, yet remain haunted by dream.
Steps trail off just beyond the earthly.
Names buried beneath our ribs.

A vessel waits, fur lined.
There is nobody but this singing accompanying flashes of light.
The world spins round with white bodies dispersing like sand clouds
thirsting for roots.

We curl into the lap in this cup
Where edges overlap.

© 23-Jan-2008 Sonja J. Phinney