The Individuals Of Her Sleeping Spell Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Masturbations of shadows:
I do all that I can to become just another Disney Word—
And into the desire of all of the things that are lost,
I throw my trinkets that I burn for you:
Like all of the paper that I've folded so sacredly:
Praying to you until I have to go
To sleep
Into Another ballroom of unequaled pleasure—
Where the felines groom—while then it feels alright
That you are sleeping at my house at the end of another ballroom
Even though I don't know you and all of your heavens
That are just sketches anyway—and this line is
Just another cat yawning—and I guess there is nothing
Left to say about your ventures here- as the soft shelled tortoise
Escapes into the canal,
An another church awakens long after the perfumes of
The night blooming jasmine have gone to
The individuals of her sleeping spell.