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Mar 09
poem 8 comments
GreyBean

A Dreamer

She hoards little bottles of 
perfumes
on the shelves of her kitchen,
each drowning in its own scent—
cinnamon, mint, tulip, basil, berry. 
Her sets of blue and white china
are stored in dusty 
brown cabinets with windows
you can barely see through. 
All the mirrors in her house
are cracked,
only held together
by tape. 
She keeps rows and rows of
Mason jars
in crates in her basement,
each containing a song
no one can hear. 
She only has photos of maps in her house—
places she wants to go,
not places she’s been,
not people she’s seen. 
She’s a dreamer
in that sense. 
Her keys to the house are held together
by a navy blue ribbon,
frayed and tattered. 
She wakes up every night
at 12 o’clock
to make herself a warm cup of
herbal tea. 
I know this because she
calls me
every night
at 12 o’clock
as she makes herself a warm up of
herbal tea. 
She collects bent nails,
keeps them in a little box
under a lamp in the living room. 
She listens to the music of the wind
at dawn, dusk, twilight, midnight. 
Stars are not balls of gas to her. 
She can slice the moon into 
shards of shaved ice,
if she wants. 
She creates languages for fun,
she writes stories of her life
no one understands,
she reads books upside down
and she cracks her records in half
so they will fit inside her suitcase. 
She’s a dreamer
in that sense.
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Posted: 03.09.21
About the Author: GreyBean
MSG / CONTACT
RECENT LOVES
  • I Will Always Remember
  • Mt. Ellen
  • Lightbreak
  • Pink Armadillos
  • From the (kitchen table) Studio
RECENT COMMENTS
  • Oh no! I'm so sorry, that's
  • There's great imagery in this
  • Thank you!! :)
  • Thank you! I've actually
  • Aw, thank you!! :D

Other Posts by Author

  • Butterflies and las Estrellas de la Noche
    Note: This poem is half in Spanish and half in English, because I'm taking Spanish in school and Read more
    in poem 2 Comments
  • Riddles, Star-Speckled Nights, and Underwater Fireflies
    I swim in the midst of strawberry seas,bubble waves washing over my golden head, Read more
    in poem 4 Comments
  • Vultures and Chemtrails
    Clocks tick and there is a constant beating in my head. Read more
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Discussion

Comments

  1. ivyparks
    Mar 09, 2021

    i love this poem, it felt playful yet emotional, and i love the way you described everything.
    -ivyparks

    ivyparks

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  1. GreyBean
    Mar 09, 2021

    Thank you! :)

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  1. Treblemaker
    Mar 09, 2021

    omg so bEaUtiFuL! Every line was so impossiby possible I love it . "She can slice the moon into/ shards of shaved ice, if she wants." love that line! WOW

    I write because the music of language spoke to me in books and I wanted to make a beautiful noise to answer back ~ Lee Williams.

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  1. GreyBean
    Mar 09, 2021

    Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it! :D

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  1. Blue Bear
    Mar 09, 2021

    It's really good, E!! Who's it about?

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  1. GreyBean
    Mar 09, 2021

    a fictional person! ;)

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  1. Roses
    Mar 11, 2021

    Wow. I love the imagery. Have you ever read Stargirl? This almost reminds me of her. It’s a really brilliant book. I read it a couple years ago. This is a great poem. Good work!!

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  1. GreyBean
    Mar 11, 2021

    Thank you! Yes, I have read Stargirl, and the second one, Love, Stargirl! :)

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