SLEEPWALKING

sleep
sometimes grips me
at the least suited hours

I was standing, and self-closing lids
seduced me all of a sudden
into a numb slumber

night has hidden itself on the false underside of dreams
on which memories get fixed
(my repressed thinkings taking a glimpse)

I wage a race with my shadow
and lose it, my body gradually detaches
in a narrow escape line goes out of sight

I fling my eyes without a wink
the sun the sky the sea
it’s me it’s me it’s me

as my image in a glass
I can only talk
about myselves

and all communication is impossible
the world outside us
well things are just not there

then I try my hard luck
and second-guess a password
beyond the doors of self-deception

it goes amiss, no panic,
there ought to be just plenty of
new false starts from which

to blunder around, never bother,
I have long been daydreaming about
some early dreamwalking