-

 

 

 

The confines of this crib strengthen, all around. All around.
When dreams go to the floor, land, and crack apart,
thunder is created.
Chipped dreams, collecting in the shadows of footprints,
the shadows of bodies, where they once slept in bliss.

 

 

"Promise me that you won't forget," she said.

"I never will," I promised.

--->X<---