This is the place where sleep is found
A lifetime of restlessness
Bodies broken from not caring
Hearts full…of the wrong…
from too much worrying
about who we don’t love
and who’s filling up
on our golden petrol. At no cost to them.
A place so tired, lips don’t detach
but instead retract
to their cold winters’ home.
It’s only years later when we reach
that moment; this moment
when we are finally ready to escape
to where we’re suppose to be
To what we’re born for.
That perfect day
That perfect place
to find that king sized nest
that will keep us on this magical well-known tour
of the kind of bliss that
sets suns and helps them rise again
THIS is the place where sleep is found
Where bodies worn
are sewn together with golden thread
to make quilts to wrap each other in
To smile in
To laugh in
To cry in
To make love in
And to sleep in.
(written at Gene Autry Heritage Plaza while waiting for Mark Lanegan)