Daunted By Dangling Participles

All my words seem syphoned from books
poems
dreams of cantileavered barns
mashed together
back to back
face to face
infront of behind
languidly lounging
elsewhere
when at midnight
before we sleep
I want to tell you
what malingers
like discontented
quititude in my
less than laborious head.
With this dictionary
that thesaurus
and three foriegn languages
I have yet to
cipher how to explain
what I am
who Ive been.
Scrambled on pages
they look like a codex
for universal peace
love and understanding
if only
I could assign a value to
x to solve the equation.
Each syllable of a word
has a meaning
Each meaning makes a whole meaning
and I try sometimes
to use
un
or dis
mal
like undismal
to say today is happy.
But how can I teach you
to read a language
older than me
buried in my skin
pimordeal
prayers from oceans
in which we no longer swim.
So
instead
I smile
and hope you don't mind
that I am a stranger
sleeping
skin to skin
in your bed.