Lift your sleeping self To the rising sun Baring a light upon your forehead, In the stillness of your heart's death. I wash light, Like I wash your arms. I waste light, Like I waste dinnertime kisses. All I taste is the bitterness Of iron Upon the tracks that race the train Towards the extended miles Latched upon my aching wrists, Crashing to the dried earth. You fight to end sleep By the way you weep. The way that you seem to keep Unpleasantness, in what you seep From eyes that drain the oceans Or the skies, As I kiss the lantern off, As I kiss the candles, extinguished, Like your body that leans towards the setting sun. Like your heart that melts with the wax. How does the Devil coddle you On the blankets that surround you Upon when comfort was so distant? How does darkness warm you, When winter is the parasite? For you, that is the paradise. Get your heart off the ground To lift your wings, To then bring Your eyes into simple appeal.