sleep took him to the valley; the valley becomes a place only existing during sleep, a deep ravine of unlimited possibility.
broken bones, roasting hens; a twisted, primitive image, like something you'd see on the ground of a cave, at the bottom of this darkness. this shows that this deep ravine does have a bottom, and it's harsh, with bones taking the shape of a smile, a grimace.
swim into the valley; that's his plea for help, someone to rescue him from the numb intermediate of his dreams.
drink up all my stones; the stones are leftover memories, dreams, caught in this intermediate with him that have sunk to the bottom, dark stones that now sit in the gorge with the smiling bones, and he needs help to get them. suspended in air, he has no weight, and can not reach that bottom to reclaim what he's lost.
let's find some place good; he's looking, trying to escape the endless. there is joy in a finite universe, there is conviction and assurance, and there's no telling where you'll go when floating in sleep above a ravine.
sleep comes to carry us; it now has them both, they are both in the valley, together. they did not escape, but in essence, could his escape be paralleled with another's entrance? perhaps now that he is not alone, that is an escape in and of itself. to have someone to sleep with at night, someone to share with, sharing that permeates deeper than sheets and into a presence that we won't ever see.
with things that are so short and sweet, as this, they can often be entirely up to individual interpretation. it's so poetic.
here's an interpretation:
sleep took him to the valley; the valley becomes a place only existing during sleep, a deep ravine of unlimited possibility.
broken bones, roasting hens; a twisted, primitive image, like something you'd see on the ground of a cave, at the bottom of this darkness. this shows that this deep ravine does have a bottom, and it's harsh, with bones taking the shape of a smile, a grimace.
swim into the valley; that's his plea for help, someone to rescue him from the numb intermediate of his dreams.
drink up all my stones; the stones are leftover memories, dreams, caught in this intermediate with him that have sunk to the bottom, dark stones that now sit in the gorge with the smiling bones, and he needs help to get them. suspended in air, he has no weight, and can not reach that bottom to reclaim what he's lost.
let's find some place good; he's looking, trying to escape the endless. there is joy in a finite universe, there is conviction and assurance, and there's no telling where you'll go when floating in sleep above a ravine.
sleep comes to carry us; it now has them both, they are both in the valley, together. they did not escape, but in essence, could his escape be paralleled with another's entrance? perhaps now that he is not alone, that is an escape in and of itself. to have someone to sleep with at night, someone to share with, sharing that permeates deeper than sheets and into a presence that we won't ever see.
with things that are so short and sweet, as this, they can often be entirely up to individual interpretation. it's so poetic.