I dreamt I heard a voice

I dreamt that I remembered
an old library
a place of hand written magic

I dreamt I felt
a warm-hearted bond
with someone unseen

I dreamt that finally
there was only one sun
and this would be my last dream

~ ~ ~

She Says She's So Clear

She, the story teller, wants sorcery
has to conceal sorrow
retrace each error

She creates correctness
always controls the story
tolerates the stealthy
allows them to translate her letters

She sells oneness wholesale
erases another nowhere

We renew each other
only when necessary
Last year she sent a rose

~ ~ ~