Pink brick,
Cream canvas.
I have measured this life
In momentary bits of madness.
Car wheeze, smoke stain.
Laymen terms for most things...
It's a project, and a fit.
It's a hard look at a tapestry
Forever unfolding in the passing
Of a wakeful sleep.

When the quiet night takes me,
Stops the prowl and awakes me
Briefly,
Well, I feel a feeling
Where I need not care
If the world is meant to spin me
Or just be spun by time and
Other such nonsense.
Universally, we're all limitless.
Still in a sleep, but also alive.