Ideas
that I have yet to form
are already at the tip of my tongue.

So, so close
am I to finding out what my next imaginary tale will be.

There it is,
I see it.

I'm reaching out,
the tips of my shaky fingers graze the warm glass.

I stretch,
and stretch,
and stretch.

I fall,
it falls and shatters, too.

So, so close
was I to finally knowing what my next dream would be.