from my slumberful stumble
through the bleary infant day--
For i had risen to chide the shirking Sandman--
i stopped & turned to the door, & whylessly
turned the latch & turned the knob & flung wide the door &
cold moonlight flooded my soul. . .
i may be gradually backpedaling on what i said about not believing in a deity last time >.> or whatever i said. what i meant was that i didn't think i'd met one yet. all i've got for now is a highly elliptical poem, though.