you were there in my dreaming.
there was a war, and you took my hand and led me to my home. upon arrival, you revealed to me what you had created; a small woven pyramid made from very old fabric. we were united in understanding, afraid of nothing. the pyramid was proof of your strength of character and your willingness to work hard. the war came closer and we took shelter in the library. that was a good place to take shelter. nobody bad could enter and knowledge surrounded us on paper. i awoke feeling soothed and calmer than i was when i fell to sleep last night.
my alarm is fixed on radio national. when it went off this afternoon, there was a woman’s voice uttering the description of the perfect miniature horse. an entire radio documentary on tiny things. how fitting, i thought to myself as i lay awake in bed, under my two red comforters. kat was on the phone, arranging an afternoon of niceness with eleven. hatchu was out the back with the felines. the sun was there.
and now, here i am, dressed in all black, waiting for the nightsky to fall.