Let me forget that I exist
Become a speck, blending in with the atmosphere
an observer to the insides of my head

Sound ferries its cargo of meaning into our receptive minds
Loud are thoughts although constructed with silent sound

Imagination waits at the bench
while thoughts play rough and tumble
jostling and shoving ,
following the rules of consciousness' game

But at night when the stadium clears
images rush out, they dance and cheer
sneaking past the fetters of
language and reason