Sleepless nights filled with vivid dreams of crazy
relationships I thought were real – woke to
fiction relief. Take out the bins, watch corn dance
in the breeze, connect to it’s tousled groove.
I want to break language, not tell stories for a while,
make noises, only fragmentary words, mouth sounds filtered
by specific emotions. Standing in crop dust grass at the
edge of a field, thick cloud between us & the sun, I’m
grateful for a day’s relief from the heat & still recovering
from a night of vivid dreams of you.