Cocoon
in a cask where I am constant
like a hapless plane descending
like a flower without dirt
what will I be
if you return me
if the parched heart
stutters to motion
will your new tongue
clap in my head like a bell
a clamour of secrets
under gauze and under the rapids
under covers sick with attention
slowly sinking far
from the setting sun
and for no one
changeling -- I am caught in a blur
in only your view
my bleakest transition
powerful sleep
what a powerful sleep
this must be
come to me oh come to me
I feel you only
as something remembered
distant and ended and
pulled in my path through a fog
and
what would I be
if you return to me
freed of pigment
free of sensation
will you leave me
dreams of the cold cocoon
under skin and under construction
will I work with my hands
with a wonder
never certain
that you have left at all
but what does it matter
if I am distorted here
I have you to compose me
I have you to replace my fear