18 January 2005


I met a girl last night
in a dream.
Like honey
Down my ear canal.
Named by her father
who lived in text-books
And dreamt of dead civilisations
Like others did of Hollywood starlets.

When she spoke of him
Her voice fell
in mousey whispers
like he might be watching

she told me
That she could only
love in dreams
like she was broken
on the outside

And as she spoke
I fell into her eyes
And span in blissful vertigo

We stood in a garden
And blossomed together
sat beneath a tree
eyes roaming
Fingers entwined
She told me her story
And I told her mine

Before I woke
She asked me
If I would
Meet with her again
And I said I would
But how would I find her?

Then my eyes
Fell open and
like smoke
she was gone.