Glamor Shots of Your Mom

I’d like to tell you about this dream
I’ve had three times but don’t
Tell your mom

So much like a current of air
Gliding barefoot down a dark hallway
Like something quietly unfolding
Satin wings or maybe the last
Letter sent by the USPO

Ever since I sleep on my feet
Three nights down this lonely alley 
I come back to life precisely
Where the empty voices died

You know where I mean

Now I’m swirling
Tornadoes around in my mouth
Now I’m waving
Two red flags of rebellion

And in this dream I’d like to tell
The moon to obey me and adore me
The moon's been a real bitch
Lately and the moon’s lit cigarette
Perfumes me such that I’m infused
All smoke-musky in the morning

Just don’t tell your mom