I Keep My Life As Simple As I Can

Lust makes waves. These waves rescind lamp dust.
I'm curled around your slumber, sleeping sound.

Descent is what we're worth until the known
reverts to slumber, seeking sound retreat.

The light equates to town where we revere
our lumbering restraint involving loss of mist.

December is a question mark resolved
when light begins to soothe the seedlings into earth.

Dream designed as pathway loosens resolution
to a level calm as Saturn on a wheel.


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