There's a Poet in my bed, he dreams color inverted pyramids carouseling around his fingertips. thumb rings and sticky nails -- hands in the honey all the time. There's a Poet in my bed, he's verging hallucination, pulling sand dollars from my pockets. Poet in my bed strumming love on his soul... embers of red green, yellow flicker together turning eyes toes into bedside lullabies. ~ Jessica M. Wilson ( jac)
Because it exists and so do I...