today again i awoke to the dream
of misty red railings in a violet-blue space,
wet shoes, wet railing, over spools of raveled rain,
a ghost, a ghost, walks her fabricated morning,
and yet she tears, she tears, she tears—
today again i awoke to the dream
of misty red railings across a cityscape,
cold fingers, cold railing; no net, but strings of yellow light
yet i walked the neon dream, as i always do,
arms outstretched, breathing the silence, a numbness-
(so who is the liar?)
today again i awoke to the dream
of misty red railings over viridian foam,
cold fingers off the railing, wet shoes over the spray,
and i fell.
and distantly
distantly, i expected the cold
instead it was warm, the fall,
and distantly there was the thought
if i couldn’t just plunge ‘til the end?
but all around me the clouds unraveled,
rain, rain, past strokes of neon light,
the tears, salt, to the viridian sea,
and i, the ghost, with nothing left to tear,
instead tore at myself
but there, a thud, a thud-
beneath the fingers, the skin,
came the thrash of crimson wings,
a rush, a flurry, a thud, thud again,
a dizziness, a dizziness,
a rush of blood,
oh it hurt to walk the world,
but it hurt too to walk the dream, the beautiful lie,
so my thoughts a ghost,
my dreams, a ghost,
i, the ghost, who existed so wrong,
reached past the violet-blue space,
took hold of the railing,
and pulled myself awake—
This morning I awoke to the chatter of rain,
Black branches against the bedroom window,
Grey raindrops upon dry eyes,
And a red, red, that beat hot under the skin,
Beat as if to take flight, and I
Thought to myself, “Ah, so this is how it is-”
and picked myself off the floor.