heavy wind
cold rain
and yes, the stars
and yes, these hands of mine
a dream in my chest is molting
my dream sheds its muddy thunder-stained skin
and asks for a heart of sunflower fields this time
and the nights get heavy
like they always do
I am older which means
when I think of forests I get stuck
not on the robin eggs
but on the fox teeth
in my head I am hunting for myself
but I come up empty again
the night grows so wide it could be a cavern
and I am somewhere underneath it, inside it, lost
but travelers always leave lanterns behind
and as I feel for the candle
there arrives a memory of bronze colored light
so I dream
I dream
I keep dreaming
one word in my mouth crystallizes like sugar
hope