lost
I
can't even remember what it was –
the
thing I was looking for in my dream
the
thing I'd lost
something
you lose in a dream
shows
up in the afternoon
there
are days on end
the
line is gone
you
feel like a fool to stand and call
it
goes the other way too
the
red king
and
the candle
a
lake of wax
and
still not guttered
people
find me in a dream
how
did I get there?
sometimes
we wander along together
then
daylight comes into it
the
place where I am woken
is never
twice the same
some streets in Barcelona
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.