Head out
Pinned my despair to a ledger line
A printout
The blood moon had made it molasses, I

Measured my sleep
My foreward was shorter than yours, I could see
I had a nice dream
It was awkward for you, even harder for me
Not to ‘be’

You swam out
The broccoli mountains had boiled now
I’d drown
I sat on the side and consoled myself

I let the light leave
I knew there were Labradors waiting for me
Where had I been?
I’m calling my head to come back to my feet...