Saturday, March 6, 2010

Poem written as I slipped into sleep...

I dream bright, tangerine dreams.
The inside hollowed out,
Crammed with French fries and
A sticky stoop of licorice string. I once roamed
Those smooth-water streets, where children drifted cool and quiet. They wore
Entire shells in their hair, while twigs danced from their ankles. I am slowly
Spinning away and sinking down. There are entire light bulbs dedicated to the hope
That we can see without our eyes alone.

1 comment:

Noxalio said...

a great description
of pre-sleep state.

and did you dream?

:)

noxy.