if youth is research, then i spent my research on dreams.
some nights i return to secrets i didn't know i kept.
a field and a tree, where someone is walking between.
a river, where someone is breathing.
a lie, which hasn't had time to be told completely.
we dream of what we swallow
and we swallow what we crave.
tonight i'll dream inside a bucket
while the rest of the spinning world pretends.