Pillows are pebbles and you are a stone's throw from sleep
Your body skimming circles on the sheets
bone tired, the lone fire is out
but the water won't break
preferring to play ducks and drakes
than let your weight through
than let the current take you
thought and light are the levers that keep the levee high
and on the crest of the creek
the rest of the sleepless lie
limbs like a lovers strewn on a funeral pyre
but the water won't rise
preferring to lie like a dry lullaby unsung
until the morning comes
and your ducks and your drakes
are all pieces of eight
flung with the latent strength of the numb
but at the break of the day
the bank's still caked with clay
and the lake remains unswum
row, row, row, row to where the water is thin
lo, lo, lo behold what's below its silver skin
oh, oh, oh, lady of the lake let them in
let her in and let him in
take them under and let them swim
pillows are pebbles and you are a stone's throw from sleep

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