She sends me secret dreams in fond despising

to kill within my shell becalmed potential,

but though my lids are lowered, I am rising,

turgid urging, ego exponential.

The secret-sender I have known for certain,

the midnight mothress, once and evermore;

her claws are chewing through my holey curtain,

her teeth are keening on my chamber door –

now nightmares eat diurnal dreams,

the sphering lines divine the splitting seams,

the body sundered, still the spirit screams.

-Alistair "Hale" Sauterne