FreeWrights Peer Review™

i lie beside your grave--
to show them that i have feelings;
for the eclipse of rebirth

and because by the numbers
on the wall are yellow teeth
connected to smaller men

sand-papered down.
suits drift down the
sullen streets- night-shaded-
dim light looming over
prairie asphalt black
like cold water.

tentacles reach out from the
sky, aqua-chalets form
inside clouds and there, by the
stranded moon, is a spaceship
hurtling into its
metallic lover.

and i lie;
suck my thumb,
find myself a cotton
sheet and fall into
a cotton dream.