I used to run naked in the rain,
feel the whisper of my love
in lavender fields through the songs
of the swans as they danced. And I

chanted along. As the sky caught
fire I spread my wings. Now my wings
are tinged with ash. My heart’s a broken
glass. It can’t hold anything. I carry its

pieces in the crease of my pocket. It
shards cut me. They stick into me
reminding me of what was. I revel in
the pain. Because not to would mean

to wake up from the dream. Even if the
dream has turned into a nightmare. I’d rather
sleep with it bare. Don’t you dare try to
wake me up. I’m with my love.