the internal logic of dreams

I got my veggies, everyone! There is something so satisfying and adult about looking at farm vegetables. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t spent this much time in the city since I was a teen, but I’m craving my own veggie garden and a cozy fire and the fall! Summer is overrated.

Here’s a messy little poem for you: I was thinking about the way dreams tell us things we don’t want to hear and twist our memories into new ones. Let me know what you think :)

the internal logic of dreams

it was snowing 

years had gone by since

I saw your teeth shaped into a smile

of course you arrived

shaking off the cold

and the past unstitched itself

I’ve been sewing this story for years

seeing you across a cloudy room

across the street you aren’t you

walk and wave at someone who isn’t 

today. 

you touch me

hands like glass

we danced 

timeless and slow

amber colored cobblestones

Rising to meet us

today

the bees are long dead

but the feeling swarms

as if the honeycomb was still fresh and sweet

We meet on the road

expectations expired

I’ll drop mine if you drop yours