Her.

My thoughts turn round as I sleep,

and there I met someone lost,



lost in a dream, in my dream.



She was dreaming of things that could never be again.



The dirt, the lovely dirt.



The terrible tragedy, almost comedic

in its after-thought…



Falling away she grabbed at them with all that she had,

her fingers bled,

as she reached and writhed for it to appear,

ropes, ribbons, sounds and smells anything she could feel between her fingers

anything that binds…that bound.



Something that gave sensation

Something left…rubble a pebble a stone.



A token of what was once here.



A sign of life.



So close,

as it all fell away again.

Drowning

the last gasp of breath before you are taken.



All she felt was the things that were



And I woke and realized,

That I am her.