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.