I
Dream (and so do a great many things)
the sound of my teeth brushing against the
stone of my tongue, the sound
of the wind and the sky in the tree,
the sound of my own mind
whizzing in my hair, the
Sparkle of music
In a glance
mystic mouth opens
and I’m a dream
there’s a thousand
waypoints in a single
moment, all of them
different, each on this
plane, this tiny blue cube
that you call home.
from seed is a
fruit
woven
of an
invention
but now
it grows,
and then comes a
bite and finally
says,
it’s an invention.
it’s just a dream
i’m still alive
so i’m still dreaming
but i was afraid
i wasn’t dreaming
it was always like this —
always like this
this is my dream
there’s a hole
that looks real
in this dream