It is as if this truth-telling on the hotel pillow of the sleep room acts to cleanse
as if this new one over there were listening to the whisper of explication
how all youth flies true ultimately to make it by this up-vertiginous peak
where meadows bottom and below-down valleys finish-off a view of fresh witness.
Both quiet with intensity after a tang of greeting and now slumbering-out by pills
And you hope to wish to pretend that this darkness in the room truly
bodies-forth the young you at the end of a phone, falling asleep,
to the endearing one, that voice, that sweet and only one.