Dream

Black
Darkness
Hairs of neon
Color
Forms
Moving
Flashes
Of reality
Transformed
Into stories
Swung over back
Brought onto
Untouched territory
Empty
Space
Filled
White pages
Trampled
With ink
Thoughts
Swept
With brooms of desire
Puzzles
Missing
Pieces
That don’t exist
Satisfaction
Of the unknown
Mathmatical
Equations
Solved
Without reason
Novels of events
At no length
Pleasure
Pain
Passion
Purity
With multiple
Ingredients
Present
Absent
Of being
Not reaching
Conclusions
Cut
With waking knives



Matisse Patterson
February 2, 2006

Aiight lets get back on the grind.

A-thing is A-thing...

She loves him
She can feel him
His touch
And smell his sweat
But she knows she cannot be with him

Every night he flies to her

And wraps his wings around her
She feels safe
He drains out her control
And it seeps into her

She is helpless
But helped
Fulfilled of everything she is missing
He doesn’t speak
But she hears his silent words of love

She can hear his heart beat
It sooths her
Her body melts into his arms
She cannot move
But she doesn’t want to

She wants to stay with him forever
Spend her life with him
But she knows she can’t
She stares at him
Her eyes dance over every hair on his skin

She tries to remember all of him
So she can create him when he leaves
She strains to keep her eyes shut
Because she knows

When she opens them

He will be gone