Most of it is dark and depressing, so for those of you who know me, take it with a grain of salt. My worst thoughts often come out when writing, but I usually feel better afterwards.
Untitled
In my dream last night
we spoke in Italian in long
fluid phrases I can't now recall
Remembering the words is like trying to read this page
under the ripple and swell
of small waves
It is like trying to see your features
in that dark room
with only splinters of light
making their way in through the shades
Did I speak them aloud into the tangles of my sheets?
Was I finally able to roll my R’s?
Did you hear me
halfway around the world
while you were awake?
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