there exists

a soul-world

somewhere in a dream

but it's real


i saw it gleam.

skies were

cut from cloth

and clouds

were cappuccino froth.


my eyes

were colored mirrors

that sparkled

instead of teared.


was made of sound

and squeezed out words


how it was caressed.

and houses were

composed of thoughts,

where each doorway

was an idea

of its architect.

mine was wide,

about twelve stories high

where yours was

low and long

and hers was


and his was

fat and round.

and how profoundly

our collective genius

cackled in the moonlight.

it was

the most staggering,

sense-defying sight.

the place i go at night

to see you

if you dream it right.

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