LIGHTNESS OF THE NIGHT Poem by Anne Vegter

and I was dreaming of something riveting me to night then coffee and crüesli . . .
Although taste suits a word and the name already a mouthful:

is your sleep your way to weigh the beeeeeeeeep*
In hindsight a pity, phrase with rebus. The dream that almost, now

and also not. So the day is turned on, without surfaces, deeper can't you, get there later or shower off the deep

and the night out your mouth> clocking on leaving.
For my little ones, I arrange buns by earth, fingers by mugs.

So much I want the longest wave to throw me against the hardest cliff
and not one part of the body burst away without loss of heat per mg.

The word is massogram.
That is: the taste of yes! zest fully immersed in the solution of it.