I lie on soft cotton grass and pick flowers from clouds; I walk on crystals, cold cold cold, and wait for green rain to pour
I kiss statues on the lips and match my pulse to their wrists; I see life in their eyes and we chat in the language of before
I am in neverland, foreverland, I sleep always and none; I am nether, yet I walk the stairway to heaven
I trek dreamscape, hellscape, anything but an escape; my hands hold constellations, my heart a leviathan