When I Sleep Every Night, What Am

I Want To See The Thirst Inside The Syllables I Want To Touch The Fire In The Sound: I Want To Feel The Darkness Of The Cry. I Want Words As Rough As Virgin Rocks.” - Verb.

And When You Appear All The Rivers Sound In My Body, Bells Shake The Sky, And A Hymn Fills The World.

The Typewriter Separated Me From A Deeper Intimacy With Poetry, And My Hand Brought Me Closer To That Intimacy Again.

It's Hard To Tell / If We Close Our Eyes Or If Night / Opens In Us Other Starred Eyes, / If It Burrows Into The Wall Of Our Dream / Till Some Other Door Opens. / But The Dream Is Only The Flitting Costume Of One Moment, / Is Spent In One Beat / Of The Darkness, / And Falls At Our Feet, Cast Off / As The Day Stirs And Sails Away With Us.

When I Sleep Every Night, What Am I Called Or Not Called? And When I Wake, Who Am I If I Was Not I While I Slept?