Loneliness?
Is it that [noticeable] difference between [all of] our estimations of how our now life develops & our realised truths – confronted in our [day-to-day] attested life seen by one self? My loneliness materializes as a near-to hollow arousal & interior conversations alongside familiarities – without sex & kisses – to make me slide
from my oh-too-dreadful times I come to – after fearful dreams of her rousing weaves of scent – of that stuff been slept through It forms into a recall of my dark
night’s one act of creative work If it wasn’t for those sighs from my sleeping dog my loneliness would suggest – Never wake up