Monday, February 4, 2013


Sometimes the halfway
between sleep and dreams
feels like floating.

Tied in the middle and suspended
by a big bunch of helium balloons,
my arms sag,

my fingers just touch
the surface of a still blue lake.
I follow

ripples in every direction,
listen to their gossip,
for my name,

for yours.

Decanto Magazine - February 2013

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