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I know the realities of my situation
that my subconscious rescues me from time
to time is a great relief, so I'm inclined
to let the dream persuade me that its intention
is the smooth pouring, this continuation
of one imperfect life into its rhyme,
a sound-alike where everything's reborn,
I withstand your curiously emboldened affection
and within the canopy of your arms, yes
I'm happier than I ever am awake,
your lips move a prayer against my skull
where I should want a kiss, oh hold me like this
when I'm not asleep? I know this is not magic
and that dreams deliver what in life would make me a fool.

I said you were kind, but it's dreams really that are kind
moving subtly within me like liquid in a teacup,
the slightest vibration causing upset
sometimes deliciously. What life denies
dreams make possible, they are not lies
but charity, a lucky composite,
I get the chance to love you, our lives chopped up,
arranged again to fit my own demand
for what I'd hoped subconsciously,
it offers me this soul-mate in reverb
the tip of every longing ringing through me.
I'm married to my dreams you know, it's him
who's taking so much care of me, the darling.
He's putting the sign on the door right now, ‘do not disturb.'






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