In my mind's unkempt places
of metaphors and stereophones
before brushing my teeth  
with the silence of time getting louder
turning the night out as I sleep
whispering to a quilt beast
walking quieter than my feet
as it fades to a powder
with a length of my skein bunting
a cross-stitching floss went hunting
from the Sandman's daunting
with the silence of time getting louder