Waking up

Picture credit: Not me

It's been quite awkward
moving into my own skin

Books, furniture,
ivory combs; if I'd had, silver lockets...
Couldn't get a thing along,
not even a pillow

Be greeted! sensations, pulsations,
sweat blooms,
seasonal dryness,
blood mines
and (more) oil (than I could guess!)

Longing beats through the walls
beats farther than time.
Try not being a guest.
You were here just when you came near.

It's dark
It smells raging good
Is that what I am - a night wrapt in Queen's arms?

There are ponds right yonder:
lillian silhouettes and light,
am I
Aurora casting the world off a toy trunk?

"Who are you?" "Who is she?"
blows past this face,
poises in the eyes
sometimes.
Where I am eyes are shells
closed in oceanic recital.