From sleep’s oblivion we shall
Now go into a primal oblivion
Into forgetting, in dark cavern.
Here our men crawled ages ago
Sang saddest songs , made up
Memes to spread them to sky.
There will be stalactite flowers
On us amid cascades of falling.
What are we afraid of, we ask.
To come back to a dark womb
Afraid to lose morning’s smell
And its aliveness in our noses.