Land of Dreams

Each morning is the tacit foe that signifies our end

arrogant and gluttonous in its manner

thief of our light 

and now here it is,

drawing me away from my dreamy chasm.

Already 

my lips yearn to venture down your spinal cord again

blissfully lost amongst your edges

I’ll never let go of our ruffled sheets

never forget the pricking of each hair

electric

tousled effortlessly into the chaos of our kisses

the symphony of our limbs

making music

I will find that place again

Even if I have to carve the sun from the sky

and pick its cosmic pieces from my flesh

forever

-K.V. Kenney