Ideas
that I have yet to form
are already at the tip of my tongue.
So, so close
am I to finding out what my next imaginary tale will be.
There it is,
I see it.
I'm reaching out,
the tips of my shaky fingers graze the warm glass.
I stretch,
and stretch,
and stretch.
I fall,
it falls and shatters, too.
So, so close
was I to finally knowing what my next dream would be.