With phantom limbs, I wrap
these silent arms around you.
The alarms that you've sounded
are all false, and here
I am, washing
dishes with my imagination.
Suddenly, I'm flung
into your dreamscape,
like a seedling.
You blew the dandelion;
you wondered where
her children scattered.
Well, I'm here,
against my will,
and all I can do
is try to hold you.
Don't take it personally
if I leave before you wake up.
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