Lullaby For Techtel

Dusk has come and settled there, where my feet now long to tread, skin carressed through frosty air as you lay your sleepy head on a pillow, made of foam. Tossing for a minute though, unbeknownst and free to roam, watching dull and amber glow of your lantern made of pewter, shining through the icy flowers, fast asleep the old computer waiting for the new day's hours. Wishing, praying, dreaming thus, pleas all gods have left unheard, as the city's late night bus startles a forgotten bird. Leaves rise up and do their dance over lamps of Dinkytown, frolic in their elegance T-shirt or a nighty gown? And she dreams and rises too flying over fields and valleys, buoyed by currents passe partout leave behind all cats and alleys. Thoughts like moths along the gutter peeking, at the twilight's bed, would two hearts be well aflutter if I held your sleepy head.