Tuesday, February 3, 2004


I come from the place where real and imaginary ancestors
dance under the rainbow’s arch
I was the one who dreamed
of the small fists of flowers thrumming the moon
The land from where I rose from was like light in my veins
Often I dream of a fictional place deep in the mind
A place more real than what is real
Often I am called to a place
where the cabin grows wings and stories
Leaving me lonely for the laughter-filled place
where the living and the dead
Sit around the dinner table,
leaning back on their chairs after the feast
Where the echo of thunder repeats the dream of the wind
Why does the storm speak of blue desires
Deep in the metal of starsleep
exploding into pure crystalline structure


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