My dream this morning
was about the chase,
about lying with grace,
running on stairs,
jumping rails,
uselessly chatting
and smiling to save face.
I heard the demons’ voices,
saw the voids
inside their eyes.
I knew that we all
deal with the exact same
choices;
spit our shit,
heal
and respect our spirit,
move in truth,
or continue on
fluffing the disguise.
But I could also feel
clearly
the horror and the power,
the weighted threat,
the fear of a possession
hunting you down so close
but it hasn’t taken hold yet.
Picture movies inside my head:
A lover hologram,
up and down
and off the fence,
forever in blue jeans
and my dreams
tougher to rip
than good denim
those damn denials,
And suddenly I’m so shy
to meet my favorite rapper
in these streets,
to behold his perfectly
Earthly, Divinely bestowed
skin tone
So very nice of him
not to leave me when
I was scared
In the open station,
believing that I was now
completely all alone
And Sarah Paulson was there…
October 17, 2020
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