Dreaming

I am open minded towards the
seduction of angels on the nights before
all the major holidays.

Words are beautiful, but are all still written.
And I the paper presented at
each opportunity see which pulls
the tide of someone's thought outside
this eggshell world—earth—and into
some place more remote—pretty
and fake.

It's as if we are all sleeping, yet not
dreaming our own dreams.