Awakened by the custard glow across the way,
wearyingly wiping sleepy tears,
lying supine on a frozen couch,
darkness looming like a cape,
air soothingly massages my feet,
hands guard me from haunting dreams,
imagining those fireworks bursting gaily like pinwheels
cycling the sky,
telling time,
reds, oranges, and blues chime,
lofting promises at empty facades,
voyeur of the strangers living next-door,
speaking foreign tongues and ancient ways,
tip-toeing ghosts echo outside,
tick-tick-ticking,
beat-beat-beating,
breath-breath-breathing,
a zeppelin soaring freely skyward,
clouds brush by with minimal affect,
twinkling twos,
smiling moons,
holding hands off the banister,
motor humming like a river,
lips fresh like cool milk,
light as hair,
we keep telling ourselves,
I want to be there.
