In a dream,

all is tangible,

albeit ephemerally.

And it was there I saw you

draped in discontent

so I called you over.

And oh, how receptive you were.

Infected, and looking for treatment,


a saturated cloud

searching for something to wet.

But your cry

was intercepted

by the morning sun;

rays through a bedside window


Reality's awakening scorch

and no longer

may we be as one.

Dust dances in a beam:

reminder of the hidden toxins

that cough us awake

and apart.

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