I met you again last night-
beyond the inky mouth of sleep,
in an iridescent den of echo,
a place of stringy dreams.
We met in some sunken planetarium-
pressed by leagues of sea.
We moved to a wobbling tune-
played in a damp and distant key.
The astral dome above our heads leaked,
and we embraced
till the cosmic concrete caved,
and we drowned
in showering space.
pm poetry 