David's Dream

I haven't done this in nearly a year... my apologies, my apologies, my apologies.

You are the prettiest dream going old in my mind,

An overworn flux of music, still bearing the pretence

Of a screaming plane-streak high glaring through the musk,

A dream I soften in my melting hands and lose amidst the weeping,

The silken king screaming, the glory of a thousand monsoons of light.

You belong to everyone, belong to the masked men with the

Human-decapitating devices, stuck onto the fences of mankind,

Bait for the fathers of your land, the mothers whose fingers get

Lost into the soil. I smile and rewind your dissolve, waiting for the

Freak dysphoria of morning banging my head against your waiting.

The dreams walk like gray mares cloaked in fog; their limbs

A moan, a walk, a word, that escaped when you otherwise would not

Have let it. You have taken the grand exit, between war and omniscience,

I sigh and unheave your apology. You are a dream with nothing to give,

And I am your susceptor, like everything else, I revolve and eat you up.