i dreamt
i moved into a apartment
with an old brick wall
and its decaying face
the old light hanging from a thread
swings on the open breeze
from the window
time seems to slow down to a crawl
so i can see each and every flaw
so i can feel each and every thing she wanted me to feel
so i can know each and everything she saw
and so i see the the moment captured in ink
on her sketch pad
a drawing of the wind in the trees
a image of the smell of the fresh cut grass
the thoughts of the passer-by
who looked with such stark wonder
at this open display of what we have all taken
for granted we could never achieve

the old brick wall
leaned into the wind
and held
for one more day
kept safe the world she held so dear
safe for one more stormy night
the old brick wall
with its spray painted messages
like how joe loves daisy
and how we should make love not war
the old brick wall
holds back the world
from coming into her quiet soul
into the paper flowers and lace curtains of her life

the old brick wall
was once the west most piece of
the boxers rebellion
he was sad all his life
torn from his violent profession
and forced to retire
and his fists lay idle
with objections written on them like scars
but after years he came to terms
with the reasons great and small
with the rationalizations made up and real
and found peace
he found his fists could be hands
and hands can pet a cat
hands can paint a masterpiece
write a love poem
hands can touch another person without hurting them
and he suddenly he didn't want to hurt anyone ever again
because he loved having hands
and all the beautiful things they could do
he would never have fists again
and that change in him  
was so profound that it became magical and
part of the old brick wall

so it will endure past its years
to protect her little scavenged world
her delicate life
her frail thoughts
because beauty isn't always
what the world thinks it is
a boxer can tell you that