I'm also still working on a backlog of poets_challenge words.
Succumbing to the disease they call sleep and dreams, a dustman will lounge in an overstuffed chair, a brace of hounds lying at his feet, swirling a snifter of brandy; a shy teenage girl can peruse a harem of muscle-bound,trembling youths, and make her selections; a silverback CEO may, in a salon, be crowned by a pink plastic semiglobe and getting a full set of silk wraps. Nightly their worlds dissected, beliefs rearranged - Waking, how do they solidify, rewithdraw from possibility? Rebecome this and not that, now and not someday? Our task, Sisyphian: a daily creation, doing out of dreaming, something out of everything. Yet it's said that God created man in his own image, not the other way around. Who is the creator here?
The words were: disease, sleep (n), elegance, overstuffed (adj), peruse