In the Galaxy of Sleep

When I altared my wife, I was youth.

We burned into two arcs of light,


then cooled back into man and woman.

Sleep was a return—already my dreams had


lived many years longer than my body.

How to account for what transpired


in the black cities of my oldest age?

When I was youth, I thought fact was


the basis of reality. But now I know

I am earth turning on an axis of mythology.


I read transcripts of my dreams each morning

in the lines beneath my eyes, my fingers


sounding out the consonants and vowels

written in a braille of pocks and pores,


trying to discern what my body knows

about the future but hasn’t yet told me.


It hums the oms of dark matter,

the un-logic of image and word becoming


a pulse in my thigh. Let me lie down again

with the wife of my youth and exalt the dark


with our burning, before I close my eyes

and slip into the night of my longest life.

Cameron Alexander Lawrence's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in West Branch, TYPO, Forklift, Ohio; Whiskey Island, Image, Asheville Poetry Review, and elsewhere. A native Arizonan, Cameron now lives in Decatur, GA, with his wife and four children.