The Lizard Dream

Two years previous to the Lizard Dream
I lay, seemingly
Still. Belly to the grains of purple time,
grating sublimely
At the ends of my book tanned nails.

Lapping at thy withered parchment scales.
Then began the Lizard Dreams.
I lay, unsurely
Still. the empty tea bag amongst flying eyes
swirled the azures.
I watch it beat back against the current. Unchanged,
Excepting my own dessert places. Held estranged.

Two years after the first Lizard dream, I lay, bleak and perfect,
Purple belly to the grains of purple time. Yet incorrect.

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