Good morning

sometimes i wonder how you dream

if you dream at all

i see scrolling 

behind your smoothly closed eyes

line after line of clearly defined

phrases (not like music

with its crescendoes and woven thoughts

that tangle around each other

like wildflowers until you are overcome

and submerge yourself in the liquid colour

pouring through your ears into

your sweet tasting mouth)

up and up these crisp sharp commands

like a to do list with small boxes

(like the box you place me in

with its appropriate corners

and its inflexible walls to hold up that glass ceiling

the one i keep banging my wings on)

for you to check through

with your pen that you use like a sword

its sharp edge that punctures these

my faerie tales

and then you awake and continue on

as if you never slept

but only plugged yourself into a wall

and decided to move when charged

i wonder sometimes if you dream

at all of me