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.