After awakening from a sleep

After awakening from a sleep, the loneliness of God scorched my eye- lids as grains of light distilled to steams and liquids, then violet-petals with thorny stems, softening the dry tongue of Dawn with tears of sand. All images consume themselves in devastating festivals of terminal phosphor, words reflect the life they inscribe, before writing, beginning to exist as something other than themselves. Everything is the reaction to variations of solitude; in this drunken splendour, sinking away like the relevance of meaning, I never feel alone – Such declarations guarantee the comedy of existence, the inevitable reflection which is forever changing according to my yawns, the laws of universal isolation dependent on a breast it never knew it created (or does, is this why, it only suppose?) For supposition seems to be the erection of definiteness, now as solid as this dream of smoke.  These memories are eternalised by being forgotten, the mortality of nothingness suspends itself as morning.