The lighthouse shrinks like laceTwisting shades in velvet breathEvening wound, sundown grinSilken sobs, satin screamsNight embraceAs wax and clay paint your faceI behold starving quicksandsAs you slip through my handsMagnetic fields call throughThis growing sleepWhere i can't trail youWhere i can't beseechWould i wait untilThe bells of morningWhich revealThe angels of springSlumbering birdsPassing overCracking domesAnd abandoned homesBut do sleepwalkers knowWhere they flowIs there a smile, somehowBut do we know