I dream, before you'll see me, I see these mirrors of myself,
Waking in slow receedings of those transient waters, becoming more of who I am, less innured in avatars of things I'd been, rimes of salt cling to my bones, and I ache,
And the far flung fantasies, manifesting in wondrous phantasmagoria, these I do not wish to abandon, so that I turn from glimpsed sunlight to be washed under again, to be somewhere else, engaged in heart's desires,
But the day has its duties to fulfill or the ship will tilt upon its axis,
Rising, I stretch the tawny sinews loose of their sediments, raise my arms in arches, lift my heel in crane and contract my abdomen in tiger,
Breakfast waits on its shelves, floors accumulate their detritus, bills demand remuneration, before another day can be eased through the brittling of my bones and night allowed to carry me back on the tides of Orpheus,
And I'll see you all again, in lands I cannot touch