I spilled into that frosting grass.
Spindly, numb blades lusted for the blank sky above
and bent and bedded me into their meadow-berth.
The pinching smell of nothing burnt my nose
and dried my fairing skin.
I forgot that flesh but I found sleep,
sidling through the deep wetting grasses.
Even so, open were mine eyes and nothing foreboding did yet I see.
Now I know
that I have escaped the weight of darkness