I shall let you in,

into my dream if you will --


kiss me in your dream.

pictures from
this new telescope
unveiled
glimpses of
an early universe
in spirals
clusters
and clouds
      of colour
amidst
an ever-changing
luminescent haze
stretched across
the bespeckled
vastness of black;
a cosmic dance
of light
through time
and space
both answering
and posing
countless potentials

even so
it is difficult
not to compare
these images
with what
can be seen
by looking through
a child's kaleidoscope

I stabbed myself with scissors
then I found it hard to stand.
I only hope ripped sinews aren't familiar
in your Hand.

A gentle child of sunlight
losing footprints in the sand,
somewhere on a map, you form a compass
of your Hand.

Hear a universe expanding
without heaven's killing brand.
Fusion of the stars comes bold and tragic
from your Hand.

Metal falls on concrete walls.
You hope that they withstand.
Soft and aching, something burned by fire,
like your Hand.

Sunset skies and flaming eyes
attempt their reprimand.
Desperate for life, you grasp to end it
by your Hand.

Falling down with airplane trails,
surviving where you land.
Digging in the snow, perhaps the frost will
save your Hand.

Thinking of it's suffering
and hate it should demand.
You feel it when you see it, still you cannot
lose your Hand.

When I feel your fingers it's like
lightning's reaching strands.
Are memories like thunder when I reach to
touch your Hand?

I wouldn't know the answer
and my love has come unplanned.
So hold my skin like something lost and found
upon your Hand.

And finally, you find me,
say you hope I'll understand
that when your world collapses, it's just nice to
have a Hand.

A sand compass rose;

I raise my finger and ask --


what wind is blowing.

At the intersection of a vague bravado and worried unformedness, I turn on the radio to hear sparkles of joy and humour, and a useful skepticism. On the road ahead of me, I see a sign labelled “Determination begins here.” I take the exit.

What am I to do without a harshly scrutinizing figurine on my shelf? Accept something that accepts me? And only loving critiques and informs me instead of violently projecting vitriolic love/hate attacks towards me? Oh no! I have lost everything.

But I have found, and am finding various other things. And on that exit, is more signs. And more sentences that begin with connectives. And so on.

While the world is asleep
I lie awake in a dream that feels real
because I am with you.
They'll lie still and we won't disturb
them.
It's you that I only get this feeling
around.
I accept that I am awake because you
are here
There is no other fact.
While the world is asleep
I want to explore everything that I can.
Without interruption.
Without the triple bypass of work.
More than enjoying your company for
what it is.
Like croissants in Paris
After climbing the Eiffel tower with you
on my back.
Or counting how long it'll take to bend
the curvature of the tower into the
shape of your heart.
While the world is asleep
They'll lie still and we won't disturb
them.
& When they awake,
They'll think it was all a dream
By the time we finish explaining what
took us so long to get back