I wake in rooms you're dreaming in.
I wonder what you see
inside the sleep you're gleaming in
and underneath the sea,
and deep in The Sahara,
and in the pit of me.
I speak in rooms you're silent in.
I wonder what you hear.
Who knows which ear the sigh went in
if no eye sheds a tear,
if no cheek wins a dimple,
if no demons disappear?
I'm here in rooms you aren't in.
I'm worried you don't know.
The river, where the star went in
will always keep its glow,
will never dry if only I
will cry with it below.