Tell me about the dream;
where you found yourself surrounded in a sandy vacancy
and the sweat on your face glistened like wishes in a American fountain;
Tell me about the dream;
Where you saw the remains of the house your mother grew up in
And how you were amazed by the black shade that skeletons could take;
Tell me about the dream;
Not the dream you had when you slept all night wanting to go back
inside to your mother’s womb; the dream about the inconsistency of light in your apartment;
Tell me about the dream;
When you were five in Philadelphia, it was snowing like bed sheets like falling stars like—
I can’t remember; is it amnesia— no I just can’t remember;
Tell me about the dream;
Where rain kamikazes across your windows; shattering themselves into millions,  for the sun to take back
Tell me about the dream;
*The inconsistencies of light; how a bulb dying is similar to us; the way
Its flashes in front of itself just before it goes dark;