BrokenEchoes

  At a simple gesture The fetid mass begins to glow and undulate The warm of skitterlings scatter, Fearful of new events The chill, damp air softens And a breeze stirs the deep dust Bringing a gentle warmth Unseen here in ages The murky film of muck crumbles from the glass Piercing rays overtake the shadowy corners This diseased, abandoned hovel is transformed At a simple gesture.

  I dreamed a series of stories That I wanted to write down There was a snake that I killed and ate And a fenced field of tigers That I herded and cared for I murdered to protect my family And murdered witnesses afterwards Upon waking the dream evaporated Leaving only water spots of disconnected details The stories are no longer there To make sense of them.