Phy-d'eau ∞ Conceptual Fluid

"Once, a man
telling and still,
arrived.

I was feverish
not quite asleep.
though, I knew he
wasn't near.
really I knew he,
wasn't.

Before that, a long
time before,  a
Woman told me something.
(she was above
a staircase)
I was asleep.
   I've slept since,
and sometimes she sounds.

Neither brought
things -
they didn't know
what it was
"to sell."

but after
clear world

With the sick
one talks quick.
Near the sleeping
one's quiet keeps.

and If, going to where
one goes,
one goes just
for burning fuel
then quickly quietly
one passes places,
consequence burned.

to
affect the feverish,
lie still
(and)
exhausted
Scream the sleepers adream.

then gifts,
these: uncanny
and beloved, clip
claims,
tumble from our arms
and rest in friends,
these are
care - not pleasure.
Pleasure burns of its own."