A dream escapes itself.
Goodbye dream, a little boy says.
Is a dream nothing more than the silent play of indolence?
The boy has already forgotten.
I am lulled into nonexistence.
Cars pass. Water streams off tires. Fireworks exhale dust.
A mist settled here once.
It drew in the collective breaths of all the inhabitants within the city.
A blanket unfolding into itself.
Nevermind.
A bright death swept through me.
The sun drank my body like ambrosia.
I became the abyss.
Or perhaps always had been.
The pavement is grey with dampness.
Vapours rise.
The world escapes itself.
But no one is there to notice.