IN A BLACK RUBBERY SLEEP I DREAM ABOUT  
         COLD BOILING ASPHALT AND         
        CRIMSON EMERGENCY FLARES...       
                                          
                                        
    
                                        
                                          
    THEY WERE TEARING DOWN STATUES, AND   
  BELLOWING THEIR MANIFEST, IN THE RAIN,  
               IN THE DARK,               
                                          
     AND SOMETHING FOLLOWED ME OUT, A     
  YEARNING. A MEMORY OF BEING TOUCHED BY  
    A RAY FROM A RASPBERRY SUN. STILL     
  THERE, EVERYTHING WOULD BE GRITTY AND   
  FULL OF TAR. RAIN UPON IT. BUT THEN A   
  FEW BRIGHT AND COLORFUL ANOMALIES. AND  
           A PROMISE FOR MORE.            
                                          
  LIKE WAKING UP WITH A BUSINESS CARD IN  
              YOUR POCKET...              
                                          
  A FEATHER BOA WRAPPED AROUND A VELVET   
  LIZARD, SURFACING FOR MILLISECONDS AT A 
    TIME, CALLING, TUGGING AT MY ARMS.    
    BEGGING ME TO SINK BACK DOWN AND BE   
 WITH THEM, WITH THEIR KIND. EASY TO GET  
   WASHED AWAY FROM THE TETHER, FROM THE  
               WAY BACK UP.               
                                          
                                          
  BUT I CANNOT GO. THE CONSEQUENCES WOULD 
   BE TOO LARGE. ESPECIALLY SINCE I'M IN  
   THE WORK MILL AND THEY'VE GOT THEIR    
   EYES ON ME ALREADY. THE FEELING WILL   
  WANE, AND I WILL MISS IT, AND CEASE TO  
       UNDERSTAND. LIKE EVERY DAY.