Sur-Realism

The door loses its desire to sleep,
And the feet awaken the fire in the lake of the leaves of the creamy woodland.
The guillotine stands in the water, feeding its eyes with the sparkling of the cotton sheets.
My dress shot the veil,
And the veil burned the hair,
And the hair locked the heart,
And the heart shattered in chocolate bars,
And the lies roll like a summer breeze.
And then, I went to sleep and drank my fingers,
And I ate the wine of my dreams,
The hourglass married the clouds,
Then the wind begot the grass of the wailing fox of the market.
And I woke up to dream again...