Sometimes I think you are rain
Falling and drying
A sweet evaporation
You the dandelion dream
That blossomed into cotton sunbeams
Then floated away
I sometimes fall and leap and long
For soap bubble moments
I sometimes stretch my arms above the everyday rubble and try to grip my fingers around a cloud
That silly surreal sweeping magnificent cloud
Before fist feels the hollow hold of fingers crushing palm,
For one minute I tickle the atmosphere
It’s clicking of heels
Ruby red or sanctuary tile.
It’s exchanging of rings so that my fears melt into the Morodor mix
Could I please have a mirage to call my own?