tell me about your dreams
about twisted trees
and falling tea leaves
tell me about how your dreams help you cope with grief
it doesn't have to be brief
you always are the comedy relief
but what's going on underneath
in all your sweet dreams
the dreams that make you gleam
you follow the streams and seams
in your sweet dreams
When the air finally lets go,
it whispers secrets in soft sighs
of thawing Earth and blooming hope,
where winter’s hush gently dies.
A better place, they whisper
yet, its your arms i long to embrace.
they call it heaven,
a place above,
better than the earth we love.
if heavens better,
why does my heart ache for love i can't remake?
I am great and tall,
bushy and fast,
orange with swirls of yellow and white.
I am a fox.
I run in the forest with my furry friends.
my tail bouncing,
Comments
I love the idea of this encounter between these characters, both the speaker and the subject: one, so ready and willing to listen and probe and crack the nut, break the harder exterior of humor their friend employs, and the other on the other side, someone who's probably waited a long time to be asked, "But are you really okay? How are you sleeping?" It's a tender image.
thank youu!! it's my favorite thing i've written :)
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