The world rustles the rise,
As I wipe my eyes and yearn for bed,
smack my feet on the floor
and drown in baths waterfall.
As quiet floods mornings day
I wish wash every sound away, close my ears and despise,
the sharp visceral noise,
Of all of love’s normal voice.
So I get on the train,
Let me swoon and delay and finally the temper obeys,
To life’s earliest art,
Loudest sound let it roar.
And suddenly I am held,
this rapturous arm then lets me go but streams underneath my skin,
To lull me back into my way,
And breaks me through into my day.