Dreams: (in which a broken piece of sky lands on the ground)




looking at each other,
through dirty CTA windows,

we're both chasing rainbows.

Because for a while they seem close at hand.

-but eventually we stop.

because once you step on them, pools of sky only become
puddles of mud, with antifreeze and innocent fools beside them.

and broken, you cannot fight,
the last vestiges of your dreaming spirit lie dead beside those dogs.

and our bodies, our shadows, become content to watch others
do the fighting for us.

because Hope is two-sided,
the kindest and the cruelest.

and anyways, tomorrow, might be better, brighter…

Because we all want to take trains to rainbows,
but can't see them for the reflections of the glass.

moving but not moving