dream #8

gardens of fire
roses in the sky
dusted paths amended with passers-by

i
dreamt
i
was
alone

like gardens on fire blowing roses to the sky
like wind kicking dust into unguarded eyes
like shale crumbling grey piles in my path
like inhaling the anvil air of aftermath

i
dream
i
am
alone

like last cigarettes writhing in heat
like cheap wine staining bare feet
like sharp smoke impaling arid eyes
like spiders entangled with live fireflies

i
dreamt
i
was
alone

like indigo the way it bled over your shins
like chamomile wisps (how they fell on my chin)
like a rose basking beams before it burns too much
like the smell of garden when collapsing to dust

i
dream
that
dream

gardens of roses
fire in the sky
paths dusted clean of passers-by