5. Veneer

I dreamt the other day-

Of a night that dreams danced my way-

Of my small and slight, self-made shade-

Of the flitter caught in my harp as the wind, it gently swayed.

I could hear my quickened breaths leaving,

As the wishing wind murmured me secrets where I laid

And those colors of my frequency left me believing.


Dreams danced gallantly in my furtive refuge-

I was alone, impassioned by my deluge.

I was perpetual to the pull of our sphere:

Try as it might, it could never leave its smear.

Slowly I was plucked from boxed bliss-

Taken to inverse rationalities of reality.


I was noticed, seen was my extrinsic veil.

They glowered that I had it all,

That I was but an easy call.

Given to me was it not, my depths chance to enthrall.

It changed them-

And tried to change me-

Then I couldn’t dream.


Couldn’t they see?

All my smiles and laughs were feigned?

All my childhood truth was constrained?

The convoluted belief of what I was and who they saw never waned.

Loved by all was my shawl:

A twiddled misconception of my impression,

When all that was needed was discretion.


I dream again today.

No longer do I ponder to deep into the fickleness of belief.

No, into the wishing well I flung that leaf

And the answer of my breath again awoke me to relief.

I cast myself out of the flocks,

Cut through into my childhood box

And back to the boy-

Who kept warm pocketed rocks.

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