Last night
a bowl of iceDREAM
gave me brain-freeze:
Frozen subconscious
diving into an ocean of peppermint oil:
the cranium's menthol I catch.
I stay awake and will the clock to sleep.
What have I become
but the stars that crackle in the night,
a lamenting smoke,
a clogged aorta of a silhouette
in reverse
infused by the giant ink-blot
of your rubbing me out.
In the morning
I watched the sunrise misfire
on areas that sunbeams usually touch
(This spooked the flowers)
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