Juxtaposition Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I am peculiarly sleepy.
The adept hands of the slowly eradicating Sun
Which flaunts its petite, little dress
Paint the sky with a muddled cerulean.
The dogs are unforthcoming inside their furs.
And the birds are now asleep -
The bed christens me with somnolence.
It is only 5: 30 in the post-median’s sketch.
Will you follow me in my rendezvous?
Come, beside me.
Sleep. Close your eyes,
Let one eye open vaguely
So you could see the taupe curtains
Dress you with the darkness.
And I will coil you,
Until we are peculiarly gone
Into a fanciful dream deferral.
Come.
I am waiting.