Sleep

[aerickson]

Through a diaphanous gorge - I would say cloud. The word gorge is too harsh a word for the tone of this poem
I slip upward into the fuzzy air, - I would take "the" out
floating in the direction of enticing whispers, -I would say "floating toward enticing etc"
past a slipping silhouette of the
darkest persimmon red. - I would take "the" out and change "darkest" to "deepest"
I graze the stubbled cheek of a young man whom I secretly adored
thus plunging ecstasy by the smell of him - the "thus" doesn't seem like quite the right word
and I am slipping in this state of utter rest and tension - I like the dichotomy of rest and tension here - cool line
dreaming the harp,
I am the fifth string - why the sudden reference to music here?