Some nights
I stay awake and wait
For the bump
The feeling of reality returning
The dream fading fast into the undergrowth
Swallowed by the jungle noise
Of a million eddying lives
Some nights
I lay awake and dream
Of the drop
When the legs fall out from under me
The world rushing past on squeakless shoes
Smoothly like a looming pickup line
A race to the floor
Some nights I think
I'll actually wake up
And remember this
With the forgotten clarity
Of the dream that it isn't.
Saturday, September 04, 2010
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