utopia dreamt

switched open dusk

an open hand offering small shiney things looks like sweet

you pick up the dusk                                   closes and sighs in the hemisphere

watery stuff and has no substance                                        like swimming

rattles in your voice where no              words                   articulate                 no

language is in your mind     animal   almost   dreamt

there is no reason to fret

after all things are calm and you can tell me your secrets but it is

inside the mouth of your dream that

~ by susaneb on April 2, 2009.