reflections in watered-down glass

1) day for rain and distant dreams

wherever you go,

surreal and free -- i thought

you would pull the rain

back from my shoulders

and my heart would reflect

in streetlamp glows,

when i smiled like i'd gone soft.

in heavy memories

of shattered paraphernalia

i wished they were dead,

and only matter in particles

which i crush underfoot.

now skeletons in the closet

with ghosts that sat beside me

on rainy days. (the dreadful dream

that the fog might

never lift.)

and the migratory misery of teendom

is like so, the swallow in the faraway land

where sun always shines brighter -- lots of lonely queens

to watch it fall once again to a new ether;

(might the dregs tell us we're doomed to our lonesome dreams?)

heavenly starlets and heart-forsaken harlots,

they all twisted, and painted

and smeared with the riches of plunders

that mean little to me. like, what was the gold

in your glory, it would never shine like that for me --

so where does that leave me? 

but in the bigger picture

(why'd i make it so) there's little room

for these things, (why is that)

but in the bigger picture

there's something greater,

-- how -- waiting for me.

and i'm not ready,

to make it real

yet.

wherever you go,

surreal and free --

this sunday morning real smooth-like

i'm thinking of you again

under clouds submerged.

(18th January 2015)