She crawls like the ghost

of the distorted spider dancer

to the bottom of the pyramid

as sand blown eyes watch over her.

She sniffs for what might be below

and knows her soft quilted bed hoping

to soon land on the lit-up blue, green and yellow

sunshine where lakes of mirror blue

bring her to dream of funny faced fish

and kitty cats blowing smoke rings.

She works her way deeper under

to where she drains from drainpipes into vapor

and solidifies finding herself with lizard tail wings

in a basket of light

safe and ready to crash

with her crash helm and armor

of cold black steel she is cold,

cold as ice soaring into her landing

awaiting the place she wants for,

where stars above a yellow sunset

call her passed forest covered cliffs

and paradise warm ocean mist …

she lands on a prism of clouds – liberated