In dreams my world exists inside cocooned
awareness where my senses are compressed
into a strangely cramped small truth, ballooned
around me with my sight obscured, repressed
A parting kiss comes into murky view
A hellish trice as she again says no
Is this real may I right my err anew?
Tis dreaming oh I wish it were not so
Most times I move in slo-mo my feet glued
upon a surface that\'s not even there
I try escaping guilt intensely rued
and my wild spinning legs do run, but where?
What worlds do we attend in nightly dreams?
Fantastic loving haunts of muted screams