now and then
i catch the dream screen wrinkling
and reality begins thinning
     like the hair on the crown of your head

it's then that i wonder
if we're stationary when we rest
     or if we're truly capable
     of traveling both space and time
     with just the silken strength of our sleepy synapses

do our lines connect
when we're clinging like dew-drops
to the threads of the dream web?

in my head
you hear my voice
     echoing through your slumber
like classical music through a dance hall

but
     maybe you can't hear me at all

maybe you're just as far away as ever