green dreams
like hard lines
liquid white water shadow
tries to break it
from the inside
rough body
its arms like branches
I cut them both
human tree
I broke its eyes
and you
brush
my hair
knowing the dream
the white blood
I know
I am
you
the green turned into red
soft lines fell over
I
want
to be
you
you
want
to be
me
I broke into ashes
they turned into red words
I am the cells of your organism
the moonlight
enters the room
and whispers
a sweet song
the quiet furnitures
touched by the blurry light
a clock
ticking each second
that passes
and a little vampire
hanging there
and any other life
just inanimate stuff
and its little heart beating
the whisper
of a quiet landscape
hands drawing
faces
with red threads
the calm activity
of the ink
where time
flows implicitly
the dream
and the sunlight
living inside
its cells
something strange
speaks
from the ashes
someone grabs
from the sand
something said
ever
during the course of speech
I’ll write a message in the wind
he’ll hear my voice in his skin
and run the distance between us
like an animal
running through the darkness
of the night
he will find me dead or dying
and he will die as well
but that should be the beginning
dreams are real
and this dream is mine
it’s me
i am
a body
full of thoughts
looking to
become words
dreams
are cells of
the moving
