Sleep Astronaut, Sleep Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Now that I am awake,
Sleep seems so far.
No longer am I an astronaut traveling
unparallel worlds.
The Flashing lights seen gleaming a far.
Floating starboard along the moon.
In A dark ocean seen at night,
As the stars swim in schools.
Orbiting a world made in the climax of breath,
Small in stature,
Fogging the screen of my helmet.
An astronaut merely a drift.
Until you crash landed on a nearby satellite.
A perplexed mythology, In the hopes that I never thought you'd appear.
Not this close, the many times I've dream't this dream.
I was immediately caught in the rapture of you.
The stratosphere of you was course.
An apparent religion seen through touch.
Not wanting to rush Enveloped thoughts.
A Devine fruit ripening with time.
The thought of you. This fixed urgency of needing you.
Desire burned like The texture of the sun,
Depicting huge scales and pines.
A fiery cactus shape shifting. Forced to dance in silent cadance.
Becoming a callous
To the liquid fire that constantly lashes out.
A bitter burn. Forlorn.
Unable to escape the bitter tingle of being unfulfilled.
The cool air unable to extingish the projection of deep need.
It's Caligraphy written among the stars.
A deep rooted passion reflected from my lips to yours.
As the stars swim in schools of constellations.
Orbiting a world made in the climax of breath,
A megalith in flight.
An asteroid,
Domesticated to every rule of hand that grips your skin.
Asnowball effect, small in size.
Becoming bigger.
Not knowing when you'll leave, if you'll stay.
A unison in breath. Not wanting to leave.
Methodical.
Needing every moment to last a bit longer.
Before eyes open and fade back into reality.
Where my eyes long to close and drift back off.
To sleep