Words are brighter in dreams.
They swim past the moleskin.
They crawl through the portals.
Words step lively in dreams.
They comb my hair in rivers.
They wander on cat breath.
Words linger in doorways,
in dreams; they ignite streetlamps.
They do the backyard goat dance.
Words unfasten dream latches.
They remember each player.
They record each dancing hand.
Words are brighter in dreams.
Then they fade.
Morning fog.
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